Hell in a Handbasket
by valeriebean
Summary: Someone is seeking out and killing readers in order to create a weapon, and the crew of Serenity is caught in the thick of it, trying to protect River. 17 years post-BDM action-adventure. Canon pairings.
1. Prologue

_A.N. This story is built on history set up in the Namesake series (not posted here... hmm. must fix that). The story is (with one exception) told from the POV of your BDH Firefly primaries, but in the 17 years since the BDM, some families have formed on the ship. The salient history is summarized just before the prologue. _

Relevant history:

Zoë died while giving birth to her namesake, Little Zoë, who was adopted by Mal and Inara. Little Zoë is now 16. Mal and Inara have two other children: Cole (age 11) and Michael (age 9). Michael is deaf, but is also a reader.

Simon and Kaylee have 10-year-old twins, Jamie and Genny.

About 8 years ago, Sky joined the crew as a hired gun. She is your typical Joss-style bad-ass and beautiful woman, and she broke Mal's hand the day he hired her. She and Jayne got married at the behest of Jayne's mother, after Sky became pregnant with their daughter, Emily (now age 2).

River is still single (poor thing).

So the ship (and this story) is a little crowded with families now. We're all caught up, right? Let's have an adventure!!!

---

**Prologue**

It wasn't real, but if River had to describe it, she'd say the space was cluttered. It was perfectly bright, perfectly warm, and everything had a place, though some things were harder to find. Floor to ceiling cabinets, packed with information, formed narrow aisles, and River moved purposefully, locking as many as possible. The aisles formed concentric circles around a wide arena, where all external sensory perceptions were processed. The physical and the tangible perceptions came only through the center of the arena, while the extrasensory – people's thoughts and memories – were apparitions appearing in random places at random times throughout the arena. That's where the intruder had first appeared.

He was a wraith at first, like the others. More lingering, though. River had thought him an under-practiced psychic at first blush, because it was how she'd experienced Michael early on. They had learned to meet each other in the arena – her and Michael. It wasn't that he controlled when he appeared; it was that he controlled where, and that alone made him safe.

The intruder hadn't left the arena yet – hadn't followed her into the aisles. He circled the control center, watching as she observed the outside world through her eyes, ears, and senses. He was small and unassuming, and his face was a Frankenstein of all the reader's he'd killed to build this weapon. He tapped into their power by accident, but he had enough of his own, and the damage to River's brain had made her vulnerable. If he wanted to leave the arena, he could. That was why River had to lock all the cabinets – anything with information about Michael.

"River…" Simon appeared briefly in the arena and faded again. Simon came frequently to the arena, and almost always to the same place. If he didn't appear in his place, he certainly moved there within moments of arriving. It was how River distinguished him from the imposters when all her physical eyes could see was a needle coming toward her. Surely the intruder knew Simon's ghost by now. When the intruder became more persistent, River had warned Michael to stay away.

"Aunt River."

River tensed and turned sharply. Michael stood just behind her in the narrow aisle, frightened and alert. He was not good at appearing outside the arena, but it wasn't safe in his space anymore.

"How are your defenses?" she asked.

"The wraith lingers, but hasn't taken hold. He hasn't come at all in the last span."

A span was the only measure of time they had here. River usually measured hers by Simon's appearance, though that normally steady timepiece had sped up of late. She had no idea what Michael used for measure. If the wraith hadn't come in a span, then it was possible he'd lost interest.

"Keeper!" the intruder called. He was summoning her to the center! River pushed Michael hard and in a flash, he disappeared. Sauntering suspiciously into the arena, River wondered if it were possible to be both invisible and present within her own mind. He took up so much of the space now that she nearly choked. Or maybe she was already choking.

-----


	2. Chapter 1

Mal was able to ignore the commotion and keep his head on the job up until he heard Genny scream. He'd been facing off with a buyer, Kent Walker, on vid and was no closer to a profitable solution than he'd been twenty minutes prior. Sky had stood just out of view, making faces at him, while Jayne snickered against the back of his hand. Simon and River had been rapidly surfing the cortext for intel related to the plague the buyer was going on about, when suddenly River went rigid and pitched forward. Although concerned, River tipping over was not unusual enough to be distracting. It was when Simon opened the cockpit door to carry River to the Infirmary that they heard Genny scream, and time stood still.

A quick look dismissed Jayne to help deal with things outside, and Genny's screaming elevated to panicked shrieks.

"Daddy! Daddy help!" she cried and was soon joined by her brother, calling for Simon, Kaylee, or any grown-up within earshot. Mal heard Genny and Jamie … why weren't his boys hollering too? Walker couldn't be boarding them. He wasn't that brazen. He was all money and no muscle.

Mal was having a hard time keeping his head in the job, but he knew his crew could handle the situation. As soon as Simon made it downstairs, the screaming died down. He heard the door to his quarters slide open and Inara's footsteps as she dashed toward the scene. When he heard her involuntary, panicked yelp, his chest tightened.

Inhaling sharply, he stepped back from the vid screen and motioned Sky to take over.

"Don't hand me off to a second," Walker warned.

"Ain't my second," Mal said matter-of-factly, forcing calm into his voice. "Sky's third."

"Thanks for that," Sky said sardonically.

"Finish this deal."

-----

As soon as he'd closed the bridge door behind him, Mal ran. He ran, heart-pounding, mind spinning, and when he got to the top of the catwalk overlooking the cargo bay, he nearly fell over the railing.

His boys, his precious little ones, lay on the ground, one on top of the other. Inara and Kaylee helped Simon brace Michael and lift him off his brother to lay him flat. Little Zoë dashed in with stretcher and splints. Genny and Jamie stayed out of the way, Jamie holding two-year-old Emily and bouncing her consolingly, but the baby had caught on to the panic in the air and she wailed.

Mal flew down the stairs, nearly tumbling as he took steps two and three at a time. Michael wasn't breathing! Simon started chest compressions, recruiting Zoë and Inara as nurses. Kaylee ran between the Infirmary and the cargo bay, getting supplies. Mal fought the urge to demand a report from Simon, and focused on where he could be of use.

"Cole," Mal said, falling to his knees next to his eldest boy. "Cole, son, what happened here?"

Cole looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with hurt, hair matted with blood where he'd hit his head. His arm was broken so bad that Mal could see the jagged edge of bone pressing against bruised skin.

"He fell, Baba. Michael fff…" With every word, Cole panted for breath.

"Fell?"

"He was up there," Genny explained tearfully, coming over and kneeling beside them. She pointed to the highest catwalk. "He dropped the toy paratrooper, and then he dropped too. Head first, like he was tossed."

"I tried to catch him," Cole said weakly.

Mal laughed in spite of himself and touched Cole's cheek. "Aren't you the white knight. Looks like he flattened you good."

"Michael!" Cole called, lifting his head up as the team working on Michael lifted his gurney and dashed toward the Infirmary.

"Lay back, little hero," Mal said, cradling Cole's head in his palm. "You've helped plenty."

Cole's face scrunched with self-disappointment as he looked helplessly from the floor, wincing as Mal parted his hair to check out the wound on his head. It was a minor bump – nothing this boy hadn't experienced ten times over in his life. Broken bones were nothing new either, but normally, by this time, Simon would've splinted him up and given him something for the pain. Cole both sweated and shivered.

"Genny, get him a blanket," Mal said, and the girl ran off purposefully, glad to be of help.

"It's never enough, is it Baba?"

"Oh, little hero, it's more than enough most times. 'S why every day ain't like this one."

The general alarm sounded and Mal looked up, cursing their misfortune. Walker must've disagreed with Sky's negotiation tactics. Having been in a few negotiations with the woman himself, Mal wasn't too surprised.

"Go save us, Baba," Cole croaked weakly, as Genny returned and covered him loosely with a blanket. "Save the ship. Genny will stay with me."

-----

Jayne hadn't had time to ogle the mess in the cargo bay on his way to the Infirmary. He and Simon had barely had a hold on River through the galley and finally Jayne had shoved Simon off so he could heft her up on his shoulder, freeing the Doc to quiet the kids. River twitched in his arms, half the time awake and paranoid, the other half seizing uncontrollably, and Jayne rushed ahead to the Infirmary and laid her down. He had her half-way strapped to the bed when Kaylee dashed in telling him to dope River and move her to the side bed.

None of it made sense. River had gone from perfectly fine to nearly dead in the space of a heart-beat, and now she was twitching numbly and breathing erratically. The smoother wasn't working right. Jayne held River steady with his own hands to keep her from lurching right off the side, because this second bed wasn't more than a long counter top to begin with.

He swallowed hard as the others raced in with little Michael strapped to the stretcher. The boy's lips were blue and Jayne turned his face away, focusing on keeping River from swallowing her tongue. Simon gave orders to Inara and Little Zoë and Jayne listened for any instruction involving him, willfully shutting out the rest. He couldn't be here for this – not for the death of a little one.

Feeling a tickle under his arm, Jayne's eyes shot open. Simon had ducked underneath him, getting his face close to River, checking her out. The Doc's face was all business, his jaw set, his eyes observant and unwavering. He moved quickly and efficiently, running between River and Michael, speaking smoothly without the slightest hint of panic. He hadn't given any order to Jayne, so Jayne figured he was fine doing what he was doing.

River shuddered and convulsed, but Jayne kept her firmly on the bed until the worst of it passed and she resigned to trembles again. Simon ducked under Jayne's arm again, tossing a bag onto River's chest, holding a syringe sideways between his lips.

"Uncle Simon, he's seizing again!" Zoë cried. Simon glanced behind, then up at Jayne.

"Can you set up an IV?"

"Do I have a choice?" Jayne asked, testing to see if it was okay to release River. Simon already had his back turned and was focused on Michael. Jayne picked up the needle and considered it hesitantly. Then he felt cool, soft fingers on his arm.

"I'll do it, Jayne" Inara said, as calm and bone-chilling as the eye of a storm.

-----

Mal dashed up the stairs to the bridge, silencing the alarm as he came past the controls.

"I told you to finish the deal, not start a war!" he cried accusingly.

Sky shot him a withering look from the pilot's chair. "I did finish the deal and on excellent terms," she said crossly, then motioned out the window. "We just have to get through them first."

Mal's already short breath quickened with fear at the strange ship that pursued them. It looked like an Alliance scout that had been ripped apart and tied back together with rail road tracks. They weren't firing weapons, but they were riding close enough to ignite Serenity's exhaust trail.

"Ta ma de. River," Mal breathed, then shook the paranoia. "Can't be. Michael's never reacted to Reaver's before."

"Could be he reacted to River," Sky said crisply, not caring to speculate. "If they're Reavers, they aren't your ordinary first generation, garden variety."

"They come in special?" Mal asked. As far as he knew, any kind of Reaver was the kind that killed you pretty permanent.

"If they were ordinary, River would've said 'Hey Captain, I sense Reavers.' That's what she's done as long as I've known her."

Sky hadn't known River before Miranda and it had been awhile since Mal paused to consider the changes time had wrought. Knowing she was right, he nodded gravely, practically falling into the Captain's chair as Sky pitched the ship, taking off in a new direction.

"What the sphincter hell –" Mal cried, strapping himself in.

Sky chuckled nervously. "I may have exaggerated my piloting skills on my resume."

"I'll take con," Mal said irritably, activating the control in the Captain's con. He knew his ship better than Sky, and he knew how she could fly. Grabbing the comm, he hit the connection to the engine room. "Kaylee, cut the intake, we're skimming into atmo."

"We're running to ground?" Sky said incredulously. "It makes more sense to push for the black."

"We may need a hospital. Today. What do you know about …" Mal pointed port, then adjusted trajectory. "What's that planet?"

Sky glared daggers. "Kerry. Good fish, bad liquor, mediocre dancing."

"Check the geography. We need a place to lose 'em."

"No," Sky murmured, but Mal was already making a bee line for the planet. He heard Sky whisper, "You don't draw Reavers to a populated planet."

-----

Inara knew Jayne hated needles, and she knew every moment in these next few were life and death. Jayne took up the vent on Michael, pumping life into his lungs every few seconds, and Inara fought against the trembling River and the shaking of the ship to get a smooth stick in the girl's arm. Simon was focused almost exclusively on Michael, using River as a gauge for which of Michael's symptoms were fall-related and which were … whatever had caused him to fall.

Needle tracks and hardened veins up River's arm made it difficult to find a decent place to stick, and the panic blurring Inara's vision wasn't helping the matter. Glimpsing movement in the hall, she saw Genny and Jamie arrive, carrying Cole between them on a stretcher. They set the stretcher on a long coffee table, then Jamie ran back to the cargo bay, presumably to retrieve Emily.

"Cole," Inara called out to her son, using the strength of motherhood to keep herself calm for his sake, and for River's. "Sweetie, you're going to be okay. I'm right here."

Cole's head turned to the sound of her voice, but he didn't answer.

"Talk to me Cole," Simon called out. He was at the counter in chemist mode now, mixing a series of meds. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Cole said tentatively, and Inara smiled sympathetically. She finally got the needle in River's arm and started arranging the drip line.

"Cole, on a scale of one to ten," Simon said.

"Eight?" Cole answered, his voice trembling. "Maybe thirty-two. You know how it is when Baba flies the ship."

Inara knew that catch-phrase. "Are you sick, sweetie?"

"I'll keep."

He was being brave, but she didn't want him choking on bile. Inara finished setting up the IV, then went to the counter next to Simon, gathering splints, ice packs, and water to tend to Cole.

"Inara, I need you in here, please," Simon said firmly, not looking up from his work "Jayne, take the splints for Cole. Don't dope him unless you have to. Inara, take over the vent and keep an eye on Michael's stats. Zoë, hook up the second monitor to River."

Inara traded off with Jayne, then nodded to Zoë that she had a view of the monitor. "Heart rate spiking!"

Her eyes filled with tears as her son's heart rate reached critical, and she fought with all that was in her to keep the breath from the vent steady and even. Simon finished mixing and turned, syringe in one hand, cortical device in the other.

"Stop the vent," he said, placing the cortical stimulator on Michael's forehead. It charged, then pulsed, sending Michael into a convulsion. Quickly Simon shoved the needle in Michael's neck and injected the medicine. Inara moved to replace the vent, but Simon stayed her with his hand. Michael's stats calmed significantly, and he gasped lightly before starting to breathe on his own. He was still unconscious, but at least he was alive.

"Check for breaks or injuries from the fall," Simon said coldly, then turned to his second patient. "Zoë – "

"Don't rush me," Zoë snapped, clearly frustrated with the wires from the monitor. "Just from my ear to her heart, I'd say she's over 200 bpm, and she's breathing … well, not deep enough to get air."

Giving up on the monitor for the moment, Zoë hooked up an oxygen line and ran a tube under River's nose. Simon must've approved, because he said nothing, and returned to the counter to prepare another dose of medicine.

-----

Simon gritted his teeth, hoping the bucking of the ship wouldn't ruin the mixing of the meds. Everyone thought he'd focused on Michael because Michael was most critical. In truth, between Michael and River, he'd assessed Michael most likely to survive. Even with the fall, his brain hadn't been cut into, prodded, and manipulated by Alliance scum. Whatever had a hold on these two couldn't be related to the scars of the Academy, but Simon knew those scars were no favor to River.

"I have the monitor up," Zoë reported, struggling to stay upright as the ship turned again. The alarms blared frantically as soon as River's vitals registered, and Simon knew his window to save her was rapidly closing.

Working patiently, Simon finished mixing the meds… for all the good it would do him. It seemed every few years, River would suddenly adapt to whatever magical cocktail had kept her lucid up to that point. He had a few ideas in the queue for this time around, but Simon recognized Square One when he saw it. This was not Square One. Just before she'd fainted, she'd looked at him so desperately, and then her eyes went hollow like her soul was sucked out.

Silencing his doubts, he forced the simple solution first. He injected River with the drug and just as it worked with Michael, River's vitals stabilized. His heart shuddered, wondering who he might find when his sister awoke. She'd come so far in the past few years. She'd even gotten engaged to a ship captain and lived off of Serenity for three months before breaking the whole thing off. She was so close to flying on her own, and now –

"Simon?"

Her voice was sweeter than honey. Simon ran to his sister's side, slipping his hand into hers, caressing her face. The hollowness was gone, and she looked terrified.

"They're coming," she whimpered. "They're coming and they're already here. Already inside, controlling me. I can't … No!"

She screamed and Simon held her face between his hands, searching for her eyes, willing peace to flow from him to her. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints and her eyes rolled back and she just kept screaming.

"River," he called desperately. "What can I do?"

"Out! Get out!" River flailed, smacking Simon's face, snapping his neck back. He felt the trickle of blood on his cheek, but ignored it, found a sedative, and knocked her out again. He had no idea when it would be safe to wake her.

-----

The first thing Jayne heard when he entered the hall was the soft sobs of his baby girl. Jamie held her and with a combination of candy and consoling words had reduced her wails to whimpers, but as soon as she saw her daddy, she cried out and reached for him. Jamie stepped toward Jayne, but Jayne shook his head.

"Not yet."

He surveyed the lounge situation as it was – three healthy kids, one gimp. First things first was to keep the whole ones whole.

"Kids, get yourselves strapped in. We have some rough flying ahead. Genny, you too," he said when she stayed by Cole. Jayne looked at the boy on the stretcher lying atop the coffee table, wondering how he might secure it all in place. Deciding to work and think, he knelt by the table and ripped open the packaging on the splints.

"How are you, little man?"

Cole swallowed and shrugged. "A little sick. A little bored. Is it my turn with Doctor Simon yet?"

Jayne harrumphed. "What do you think?"

"My head hurts."

Jayne stopped with the splints, turning his attention to the boy's head. He felt the lump, and used a wet rag to clean the blood away. It didn't look like a concussion, but no wonder the Doc didn't want to blanket drug him. Jayne knew these kinds of injuries though, and he could make his own decisions on what needed doing. Finishing the bandage on the head, he turned to the broken arm.

"Things aren't getting better right away," Jayne warned Cole.

"I'm ready," Cole said bravely, biting his lip to keep from crying out as Jayne surveyed the damage, figuring just the right way to pull.

"It's okay to scream."

Their eyes met and they nodded to each other, like Cole was grown and they were old friends. Cole had all of his dad's strength and his mom's good looks, which Jayne knew would serve him well if he survived his childhood. This wasn't the first broken bone Jayne had set for him.

"If it gets too much, tell me and I'll give you something," Jayne said.

He paused again, giving Cole a chance to cave and beg for drugs, mentally preparing himself for the boy's scream when his pride failed. The ship shook with hard burn and Jayne waited for the acceleration to steady before he set the bone. The snap echoed, Cole screamed, and the entire hall went black.

Noise clamored from inside the Infirmary, gravity shifted sideways, and Emily shrieked in the darkness.

"Uncle Jayne?" Cole asked timidly and uncertainly, his voice barely audible above the noise. "I think I blacked out."

Jayne blinked and waited out the darkness. "Ain't just you."

-----

Sky swore constantly under her breath as she brought up topography maps of Kerry. The Captain was flying sluggishly, and the ship tailed them like it was attached with a string.

"The marking on that ship is like nothing I've seen," Mal said, craning his neck as they swung wide. Was he intentionally not running so he could get a better look?

"It's very pretty," Sky said irritably. "Evasive beta."

Mal initiated the maneuver, but kept poking at the vid, changing the angles. "It's some kind of bastardized Alliance symbol."

"I'll take a capture and review it later. Can we run from these guys now?!"

"I am running. It's like he's reading my mind."

Mal swerved as they hit the atmosphere and the ship stayed just above them, creating a heat shock wave. Serenity bucked and rolled as their pursuers fired some form of weapon, and then the entire console went black.

"Gorram! What was that?!" Sky cried, feeling the tug on her restraints as the grav boot kicked and they felt the full-g force of their maneuvers.

Mal stayed completely calm. Sky recognized the spark in his eye, indicating he'd found an escape plan. Whatever the hell it was, she hoped he'd start it soon.

"Still have attitude control," he said, pressing the nose through atmo, and starting down. They dove deeper into atmo, angling sharp enough to toss the lunch, but Sky noticed the other ship held off. Maybe that tear down the middle of the enemy's hull couldn't handle the transition from space to air.

Mal tapped the screen. "No instruments."

"Fun," Sky said dryly, reaching for the comm, hoping it hadn't fried too. "Kaylee, we lost the computer!"

"Learn to love it," Kaylee answered, yelping as something zapped on her end. "She's fried."

"Is there still power to the Infirmary?" Mal asked urgently.

The speaker squawked with static and sparks from the opposite end.

"Ain't heard complaints," Kaylee finally answered. "Not that that's good."

"Sky –"

"Can't fix it by looking, Mal. My eyes are best kept up here," she said, focusing out the window and on their current predicament. Landing a ship with no external down view and no instrument guide was not a one man job.

-----


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kaylee went to the Infirmary as soon as Serenity set down. Her hand was burned from grabbing the heat intake when the ship rolled, and she'd landed hard against the opposite wall when she let go, but Kaylee would yell at Mal later. There had been no fancy flying or hard stresses beyond the initial run, thankfully. The mechanical systems were fine and she'd found enough in-tact fuel cells to fix the life support, but half the electrical relays were shorted out, and they were blind as a bat. The grav boot had taken a hit, and Kaylee nearly cried because the thing was so gorram expensive she'd have to sacrifice repairs elsewhere for lack of money. The Captain set them down light as a feather, though, and as soon as he gave the go-ahead, Kaylee started assessing the damage, putting out fires, and tracing a path toward her children.

It shook her enough when she'd heard Genny screaming and had run in on that horror in the cargo bay, but now Serenity was broken too, and the screams ripped through her. She shelved it though. There was peace on the ground. Fifteen minutes of terror at the end of an already long day, and now they could recover and repair. Weren't too unusual.

The kids' voices carried from the lounge, words mixing with half-hearted chuckles. It was a memory game they played to pass the time when they had to sit still and keep quiet. Genny and Jamie were slumped tiredly in the chairs, slouched as much as possible with the safety harnesses on. Cole lay flat, still on the stretcher, tied to the table like Gulliver after the Lilliputians had gotten to him. The emergency lights were the only thing working in this section, but Kaylee would get to that later.

The Infirmary was still. Zoë squatted in the corner, head in her hands, shoulders shaking intermittently. Inara stood by Michael, stroking his forehead, whispering prayers. Simon stood over River, holding her hand, and Kaylee shuddered because she knew that look in her husband's eyes.

"Mom?" Jamie called tentatively, and Kaylee donned a mask of composure.

"Where's Emily?" Kaylee asked brusquely. She'd put Jamie in charge of the little girl when the crisis started, because he was the only one, besides Jayne or Sky, that Emily listened to.

"Uncle Jayne took her."

Kaylee rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the images from her mind. She could see burns on the bulkheads just behind their seats where the electrical relays had shorted. The ship was a hazard and a mess, but at least they'd set down.

"It's safe to unstrap now," she told them. "Genny, I need you upstairs to get the computer running again."

Kaylee was good with mechanics, but computer engineering was her daughter's special talent. Genny undid her harness and ran over to Cole, holding out the back of her hand so he could itch his nose against it. Cole smiled gratefully.

"Now, Genny," Kaylee said, more irritably than she meant to, then thought twice about sending her daughter out alone in the ship's present condition. "Take Zoë with you."

Both Genny and Jamie looked at her, surprised by her tone, eyes wide and scared, wanting to obey, but needing reassurance. Dropping to one knee, Kaylee opened her arms and Jamie ran to embrace her. Genny came more slowly, but when she did come, she held tight. Kaylee didn't want to imagine what it had been like for them, watching helplessly as little Michael fell and flattened poor Cole.

"I'm right here for you," Kaylee assured them. They were shaky, but still putting on a brave front because they knew there was work to be done.

After too brief a minute of comfort, Genny went to the Infirmary and summoned Zoë. Before going upstairs, she locked eyes with her brother, and pointed to Cole, ordering, "Don't leave him alone."

-----

It was calm, but in the eye-of-the-storm variety, not the after-the-storm. Whoever it was up there would likely be waiting, and with River, Michael, and Cole down, Simon already had more patients than beds. Mal pulled open the console, willing an easy fix into the parts, but all he got was a face full of sparks and ash. He'd noticed when the grav shorted, but forgot to think about it just before landing, and accidentally sent a whole shelf of equipment falling onto Sky, who hadn't unstrapped her harness yet. She seemed more irritated than hurt, and she she waited for Mal to get the first aid kit for her. Knowing Sky, there was no telling if it was belligerence or legitimate injury.

Jayne darted upstairs, holding Emily in one arm, a fire extinguisher in the other. Mal had already checked for wall-fires on the bridge and upper deck, but he didn't stop Jayne from doing his own survey.

"Power's out on the lower deck," Jayne reported, "Kaylee's on it. What hit us?"

"Something Alliance," Mal answered. He searched for pen and paper in the mess of things that had fallen to the floor and started drawing the strange symbol from memory. "Some energy pulse weapon, though we ain't seen one this powerful before. Something new."

Sky popped the seal on a chemical ice pack and held it to her forehead, commenting jadedly, "Or a new kind of Reaver."

Jayne tensed predictably. "Reavers?"

Mal craned his neck and looked out the window again to the sky, ignoring Jayne's reaction. It was hazy out and mid-day, but Mal wasn't about to set the clocks back six hours to join world time. Irritated at being ignored, Jayne grumbled and handed Emily to Sky so he could tend to his wife's wounds. Mal mulled over the new enemy. They showed up in the middle of a job, just after River went into a fit, then they didn't seem keen on capturing, boarding, or breaking Serenity.

"It's quiet since the first shot. They didn't even chase us down here. Didn't even cross atmo."

"Like they're toying with us," Sky groused.

"Or targeting," Mal said. "It ain't a secret that our boat houses a reader."

"You think someone is targeting River and Michael?" Jayne asked.

Mal shook his head, and busied himself with repairs. "Just River. The rest of the 'verse don't know about Michael, and I mean to keep it that way. Readers are a rare commodity, and I ain't giving the Alliance cause to come take him."

Sky sighed gravely. "Alliance don't need a reason."

-----

The Infirmary was humid with sweat, tears, and residual panic, and Inara's whispered prayers filled the air like cool, refreshing mist. Kaylee placed a hand on Simon's shoulder and his head bowed in response. He was thinking up a storm, she could tell. He was pulling out all the stops of the imagination, not restricting himself to what he knew, but desperately testing what might be. With River's perceptive ability, it always came to that.

"They have her mind," Simon said. Then he shook his head and tugged his ear, like he could pull sense out of the statement that way.

"Any way I can help?" Kaylee asked.

Simon touched River's face. She looked so peaceful, but the remorse in Simon's eyes spoke volumes as to the nature of that peace.

"Simon," Kaylee tried again.

"There has to be … something …" He forced his thoughts into words for her benefit. He was trapped on River.

"Cole is asking for you."

Cole hadn't said a word of complaint, but Kaylee wasn't trying to speak for the boy so much as she was trying to provoke a response. Her words had the desired effect. Simon looked over his shoulder where Cole lay in the lounge, duct-taped to the coffee table because Jayne had lacked a more creative restraint.

"Get power to the bone scanner," Simon said quietly, shelving his inner turmoil and focusing on his work. "Steady the power so I can run the instruments and start treating this …"

He looked from Cole to Michael to River, gulping large breaths of composure. She grabbed his hand before he could dismiss her again. Stepping into his personal space, she cradled his face and kissed his cheeks, where she knew the tears would fall later, in private.

"We'll get through this," Kaylee assured. "We always do."

Simon's gaze drifted briefly toward River, then he ducked his head again, locking away any emotion. There was no soft smile at her words, and no glimmer of hope. He didn't like being touched in these moments, but he was too kind to push her away. If it were anyone else on the table, he would've at least pretended to take comfort. But this was his own heart on the table. This was River. And this time, she might not make it.

-----

"Can't be Reavers," Jayne said firmly, more to convince himself than anyone else. He walked quickly to the galley, pacing back and forth in the hall because Sky and Mal were moving slower. "Reavers don't back off like that, even if their ship would explode."

It wasn't easy pulling Inara and Simon out of the Infirmary, but Mal needed address his crew, and he needed to do it in a place where they wouldn't be distracted. He didn't have much to say, but any plan would keep for the moment. Anything in the galley that hadn't been bolted down was now tossed to the left side of the room.

"We don't know a damn thing about second generation Reavers," Sky pointed out, righting a chair for herself and sitting at the table. "They weren't drugged into the life. They chose it."

"There's no choice in it," Mal said matter-of-factly.

Sky made a face, but her words were as said as she wanted and she laid her head down on the table, burying her face in folded arms. Mal righted the other chairs in the room and kicked the dangerous stuff sideways. Jayne set a kettle to boil, and stood impatiently by the stove, urging Emily to stay still. The little girl wanted to walk around, but there was simply too much fallen and broken for her to be safe.

Inara arrived next, walking stiffly, sitting cautiously. She met his eye only briefly, then focused on the table, whispering a proprietary 'no, thank you' when Jayne offered her tea. She was two steps from breaking, and as much as he wanted to hold her, Mal dared not touch her.

"This isn't like Reavers, new or old," Mal said, continuing his thoughts to Jayne. "No one has followed us down to eat our spleens. Did River say anything?"

Jayne shook his head. "Wasn't that kind of fit."

"She said they have her," Simon said, entering with Kaylee. "They have her and they're here."

"Speaking in riddles," Mal mulled, then cursed under his breath.

Kaylee sat, but Simon went immediately to Sky, assessing and that cold, disconnected manner he had. He'd steeled himself and buried his soul so deep, they wouldn't see it for days. The fact that Sky wasn't swatting him away concerned Mal greatly.

"How long will she be down?" Sky asked Simon, her voice muffled because she was talking into her elbow.

"She won't be helping to clean this mess, if that's what you're asking," Simon said sardonically. "She's sedated now. I wasn't going to wake her until after Michael's surgery."

Mal bristled and swallowed hard at the thought of his son getting cut on. Layering that with River's warning, made it all the harder. "Best keeping River under anyway 'til we figure out who has her and where."

Simon nodded and the room stood still waiting for Mal to lead the conversation to the next topic. He got a grip, figured out what needed doing, and shook off the distractions.

"Get on with your work then, Doctor," Mal dismissed. When Simon didn't move, Kaylee placed her hand over his, but he didn't respond. Jayne kicked him under the table.

"Spit it out, doc. What do you need?" Jayne demanded.

Simon pressed a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Two … maybe three units of blood."

"Mine?" Mal checked.

Simon nodded.

"Guess I won't be cleaning up neither. Set it up."

Simon left stiffly, then returned a few minutes later, while Kaylee was describing the extent of the electrical systems damage. Without a word, Simon set a bottle of painkillers in front of Sky, and then walked out again. Not missing a beat in her report, Kaylee took the bottle, and shook out three pills for Sky who lifted her head just long enough to swallow the pills, then laid down again.

Kaylee was the most together of the bunch. Mal could see her brain working behind those eyes, figuring out her to-do list, determining what needed to be brought to his attention. She was goal-oriented, like him, and through the years, she'd figured out how to get exactly what she needed.

"Genny's on the computer fix," Kaylee reported, and Mal raised his eyebrows in surprise. So far as Mal knew, Genny's talent was handing the boys their asses in hoop ball. Fixing computers was of much more use to Mal.

"Basic vid and geolocation are key," Mal said. "If we need to run, we can't be blind."

"She knows," Kaylee said surely, and Mal could see the pride in her eyes.

"Make sure the peripheral systems are ready when she is. Sky, you and Kaylee get the external surveillance up and running."

Sky lifted her head slowly, and didn't protest. Mal continued, the ideas flowing more quickly now.

"Jayne, take a trip around the block. Scout this area and see where we've landed. See if there are any settlements within spitting distance."

Jayne nodded.

"'Nara, take the shuttle –"

"Shuttle couplings are fused," Kaylee interrupted.

"Take the mule, then," Mal said. "If Jayne spots a town, you go in and see if you can figure who hit us. Get a message out to anyone you think can help. The rest of you, if you need supplies, you have twenty minutes to make a list."

With that, Mal dismissed the crew, and he was glad to see them moving purposefully toward their tasks. They always knew what needed doing. These meetings were simply a matter of focus and motivation.

Inara hung back after the others left, carefully moving the spent tea cups to the sink. Mal wanted to speak, but no words came to mind.

"If you have any old friends on this world, now's the time to call in a favor."

She couldn't even meet his eye – not for more than a few seconds at a time. She wanted more. They both did. But now was not the time.

-----

The back hatch of Serenity opened, letting in a swift cool, dry air that was tainted with ash. Strong winds whipped from the east, but the source of the smoke was well beyond the horizon. Jayne didn't think the smoke thick enough to require a mask, but he found one for Emily anyway. She fingered the mask curiously and giggled when Jayne kissed her forehead. So long as he kept appearances, this would be a game to her.

"Wen guo pi! What is that?!" Jamie exclaimed, covering his mouth with his sleeve and running to the entrance. Jamie had a sailor's mouth on him and Jayne found that hilarious, if for no other reason than it riled Simon. He and Cole were cleaning up the mess in the cargo bay and helping Inara get the mule ready to go. Cole couldn't do much with just the one good arm, and he limped to the door, leaning out to see the world.

"Probably wild fires," Jayne answered, though his attention was on the weapons closet and what firearm he should select for Inara. It was bad enough she was going out without escort, but without a sidearm was downright foolhardy.

"Boys, stay inside," Inara said sternly, coming next to Jayne, and selecting a dainty, snub nose revolver with an engraved, wooden grip. Jayne had never seen her use the thing, but figured folk responded to her when she brandished it because she didn't look like she could handle it safely. Not that guns were safe by nature. He gave her a Delta Elite as well, though he knew she wouldn't use it. Emily reached out curiously for the weapon, but Inara stayed her hand, saying simply "Not for babies."

Jayne couldn't remember seeing Inara so shut off since little Zoë ran away. He was in no place to comment though – it wasn't his kid lying near dead in the Infirmary. Quickly, Jayne shouldered his favorite sniper rifle, handed Emily off to Jamie, and motioned for Inara to follow him out.

He squinted at the glare of natural daylight. Though the sun was high, the smoke had reddened it significantly, and set a haze over the sky. They'd set down on a plateau. To the east, black smoke rose from a deep valley, and to the north, a jagged mountain range was just visible through the haze. An aircraft rose from the south, close, but amidst the foothills, and made a beeline for the valley.

"The primary settlement must be that way," Inara said, watching the southern border, hoping for a more direct marking. The white ash clung to her hair and eyelashes, and dusted her clothing, making her look like an antique china doll just pulled out of the closet.

Jayne agreed. The southern settlement was the one fighting the fire in the east, thus they must be harboring the resources. A second craft took to the air.

"Can't be more than fifteen miles out," Jayne said. He didn't like the idea of sending her off alone. Today's luck simply was not in favor of that turning out well. At fifteen miles, if she radioed for help, there was nothing he could do. Until the shuttles were fixed, they only had the one mule.

"If you want to stay –"

"Mal assigned me this task for a reason," she interrupted curtly, steeling her nerves, and heading back inside to get the mule.

Jayne didn't credit Mal with as much foresight, and was about to say as much when he turned and got a view of the exterior of the ship. The outer hull was riddled with stress fractures, and an entire chunk of the port side was ripped off completely. No wonder the grav boot failed!

Adjusting his belt, and shifting the gun on his shoulder, Jayne circled the ship, cataloging the damages, and figuring out just how much of their luck quota had been spent on holding the pieces together long enough to get them safely to ground.

-----

Mal grunted and groaned, but willed his way up the stairs, short two pints of blood, and seeing stars all the way. He wanted to get back to the bridge, more to have a quiet space to think than that there was anything needing doing. No telling how long he'd been passed out on the floor of the Infirmary, but Simon had been putting the final stitches on Michael's belly when he came to. His little Michael… he needed to do something more than lie on the floor of the Infirmary, looking up at the gorram ceiling. No wonder River was so crazy!

Mal needed to check the progress of the others. And he needed a tall glass of water. The galley was cleaner than before, and blurry until the cool water sliding down Mal's throat brought the world into sharp relief. Maybe he'd check –

Mal froze, ears alert, when he heard the stifled squeak from the hall. Poking his head out the door, he listened again.

A muffled cry. The sounds came from the engine room.

Moving quickly, Mal crossed the ship, jumping over the bundles of cable Kaylee had strung out, in attempt to restore the power downstairs. When he got to the engine room, his concern melted into incredulous annoyance.

Genny and Zoë were wrestling, dancing dangerously through the maze of cables. The girls had been fighting a lot over the past month, and Mal didn't particularly care what about. This was a dangerous place to roughhouse and they both knew better!

"Knock it off!" he yelled, then placed a hand on the wall as the world went kind of spotted again.

Genny squeaked as Zoë released her and the two girls went to opposite sides of the room, sitting huffily. Genny picked up a soldering iron and a circuit board and set to work, casting angry glances at Zoë. Zoë rested her chin on her hand and stared fervently at the engine. She didn't offer an explanation – she never did.

"Zo, what are you doing here?" Mal asked.

"She's my assistant," Genny answered importantly.

"Try babysitter," Zoë goaded.

Genny picked up a roll of tape and chucked it at Zoë, but Zoë ducked and snarled angrily.

"I don't need watching –"

"Enough!" Mal said, and both girls stopped obediently, clearly simmering. There was no excuse for this behavior … excepting maybe the stress of the crash and seeing Michael and Cole nearly dying. Mal decided he'd only punish them a little for misbehaving. Little Zoë was itching to get out of the room and know what was happening outside the room.

"Zoë, go to the Infirmary and help Simon."

Zoë grunted a stiff thank you and hustled out of the room.

"Genny, what's the status?"

Genny took a deep breath and shook her head, like she was relieved to be rid of Zoë. "Internal mainframe needs replacing, so for the mean time, I'm wiring a portable networking unit to tap into the world aviation signals and paralleling all the handhelds so we can run off open source on the cortex."

Mal's jaw flapped uncertainly. He hadn't heard talk like that since Mr. Universe.

"What's that mean?"

Genny smiled sweetly, and tucked her hair behind one ear, looking so much like her mom that Mal nearly forgave her previous indiscretion. "Give me another ten minutes and we can use the local lawman's satellites to track the ship that shot us."

-----

Simon moved purposefully around the Infirmary, arranging and rearranging the supplies, never satisfied, because the items he was arranging were of no use in the current medical situation. Mal shouldn't be upright, but short of medicating him into a coma, there was no holding him down, and Simon couldn't afford to waste the meds. Sky had a concussion from the landing, but it was nothing she would complain about and unless she fell over in the course of her work, there was nothing much he could do beyond what he already had. Fortunately, Cole only had a broken arm, so he'd been able to reclaim the splints Jayne had so liberally applied and jerry rig traction for Michael.

The younger Reynolds boy had regained consciousness after Simon's surgery to stop the internal bleeding, but Simon had medically induced a coma. The boy's shoulder was dislocated where Cole had tried to catch him, and Simon credited that move alone with saving Michael's life. Both Michael's legs were broken in multiple places, as well as two ribs, his left arm, and his sternum. The last was a result of the chest compressions from when his heart stopped. He should've just gone for the paddles.

River was much more challenging a puzzle. She had suffered extreme neurological and physiological trauma with no determinable cause. Although he knew her current psychoactive meds were no longer effective, he considered administering them anyway, because he could see the first physical symptoms of withdrawal.

Simon pulled River's meds from the cabinet, and held the bottle of pale pink liquid to the light. He still had a six month supply of this one, and now it was completely useless. He put it back into the cabinet and closed the door. Then he opened the cabinet again, pulled out all the bottles, and started rearranging.

Zoë stalked in, all fury and frustration, carrying a worn leather satchel that was her signature clothing item as much as Mal's suspenders. Simon was pretty sure that over the last two years, he'd never seen her leave the ship without it.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, not turning from the cabinet, though his hands slowed.

"No," she said angrily, pacing in the small space between the beds. "Baba spends all his breath telling me to grow up and I'm still stuck with the same job I've had since I was nine."

Simon smiled sympathetically. "You fought with Genny."

Zoë rubbed the back of her fingers against her forehead, desperately wanting to put reason to her actions. "It's stupid, I know."

"Your dad caught you, didn't he?"

"She just gets under my skin sometimes."

Zoë sat hard in the middle of the floor, and rooted around her bag for a pen and notebook. When she pulled out a stack of papers too, Simon motioned with his hand for her to scoot closer to the wall and out of the way. Sometimes he wondered what his daughter did to provoke Little Zoë. But then, Simon had a little sister, and he knew some spats went beyond reason.

"Watch the kids," Zoë grumbled, making a face. "It's been three hours and all I've done is hand her tools that she could very well get on her own. I'm sick of being useless."

"You won't find much reprieve here," Simon said, calmly placing the last of the bottles in the cabinet and closing it again. Glad for the company, he turned to face Zoë and leaned against the counter.

"You're just sitting here?"

Simon shrugged helplessly. "Michael is stable, and there's nothing else I can do until Inara returns with the new supplies."

"Did Aunt River wake?"

"A few times," Simon said. He had tried waking her briefly, after Mal had left, but she seemed completely hollow, as if someone else were watching him through her eyes. He'd shivered at the sight, and sedated her almost immediately.

"She didn't say anything," Simon whispered.

Zoë nodded thoughtfully, then turned her notebook to a fresh page.

"Remind me what she said the first time."

Between Michael and River, Zoë had developed a special interest in bioethics and psychic research. No detail or tidbit of hearsay went overlooked in her investigations and she was convinced that some day, some benefit would come. Simon could already see the benefit, simply in the way she had taught her parents how to connect with Michael. She was her little brother's protector and greatest advocate.

Simon described River's actions from the time she first passed out on the bridge to the chilling words she'd said before he'd drugged her. Zoë nodded as she wrote, then glanced sideways at the stack of articles she'd amassed.

"Something this powerful," she mused. "I can't believe this is the first I've heard."

"It sounds like the first phase of some kind of mind-control weapon," Simon said.

Zoë pursed her lips and shook her head. "Readers have always been the vehicle, not the target of such things."

Still, she wrote the theory in her notebook. Simon liked that she was studious and that he could think out loud with her. It helped them both, not being useless.

"Maybe someone is seeking out the vehicles," Simon hypothesized. "On Earth-that-was, scientists used electroshock to stun the fish so they could get an accurate count on the population."

Zoë didn't answer. She picked up the first paper on the stack and started reading. Simon had criticized her more than once for being wasteful, printing out things on paper. Now, with the computers had gone dark, he could eat those words. What he wouldn't give for a hard copy of his medical notes for River – for the whole crew. Pulling up a chair, he held out a hand and Zoë handed him a few papers. He dropped those papers when River gasped and opened her eyes.

-----


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Inara took a deep breath as she approached the border of town, and coughed immediately. The ash and smoke was thicker here, and the frequency of emergency vehicles flying toward the fires in the east had increased significantly. Slowing the mule, Inara crossed from open land onto a road circling the town. The streets were vacant and local vid-casts warned residents to stay indoors and boil water before drinking it. It was not a primitive settlement, but it was relatively small. She would be pegged immediately as an outsider.

She'd wrapped a scarf over her head, across her nose, and mouth, and she wore protective goggles. One of these days, she'd convince Mal to get a covered vehicle, but most of the planets they were on didn't have heavy smoke or rain, and the windows would probably be chronically shot out anyway.

The crossover from wilderness to civilization was remarkable. Suddenly, the grass was two shades greener and well manicured around every polished marble building. The streets were elegantly arranged, drawing one naturally inward to the city center. Monuments to the Alliance marked the architecture, shining pristinely. Every dark wood park bench or picnic table looked both inviting and sterile. It was a world Inara had grown up in, loved, and left. Instinctively, she twisted the wedding ring on her left hand. Then she pulled it off and tucked it into her bra. This place had felony written all over it and she would not lose another ring. Plus, the distinguished ambassador card worked much better without having to explain a husband – especially one of Mal's standing.

She crossed the residential zones into a commercial district, and a shopping plaza that went on for miles – a string of restaurants, a clothing district, electronics. A few shoppers braved the haze, on missions deemed too urgent to wait for the smoke to clear.

Entering the industrial district, Inara chose a building with a medium-sized warehouse and the word 'Supply' engraved on its austere and unassuming sign. She locked the mule, walked into the service entrance, and pulled out the list Kaylee had made for her. The service area was nothing more than a small desk, with a line of open shelving behind, separating it from the stream of conveyors in the warehouse.

"Git, you!" a clerk hollered, coming from the warehouse area and shooing her away. "We don't serve outsiders here!"

Inara unwrapped her scarf and brushed the ash off her eyelashes. The necklace she wore was a Guild trademark, but she didn't expect him to recognize that. He seemed very simple and blue collar.

"Forgive me," Inara said graciously, ignoring his rebuke. "I am in need of supplies."

The clerk eyed her, and crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders self-importantly. "Guild, eh. We don't serve your kind either."

Inara was impressed, but not pleased. "I'm not here on business."

The man kept eyeing her, chewing the inside of his cheek, thinking. He was intrigued, but it wasn't for meeting a companion. "You came on a ship? Is it broke?"

"Why would you think that?" Inara said disarmingly, though the warning bells blared in her mind. She was starting to wish she'd left her ring in place. "My … son broke his arm. I'm in need of medical supplies."

"A whore with a kid. Ain't that something," the man laughed haughtily, then pointed to a catalog chained to the desk. "Lady, this is a maintenance and repair operation. We don't sell splints or drugs. You can go down the street to Heller's, but he don't serve whores either."

Inara looked at Kaylee's list again. She couldn't expect much help here, and she also did not want to reveal the extent of Serenity's damage. She tore off the top ten items and laid the list on the counter.

"I require these items."

The clerk snarled. "Maybe you're not hearing correctly –"

He froze as she reached into her coat for the coin, thinking she was going for the gun holstered under her shoulder. She had to give him credit – he was tense, but not panicky.

"You want to solve this with violence," he growled.

Inara found her bag of coin, separated enough to cover the items on her list plus ten percent, and dropped the money on the table.

"Not particularly. I will return for my items in one half hour. "

-----

"What the hell is this?" Mal asked as Genny and Kaylee came to the bridge like a whirlwind proclaiming success. Genny had collected ten handheld computer pads and attached them to a rod with vice clamps so they stood in a row like a gorram choir. They were all wired into the circuit board she'd spent the afternoon working on, which was housed in an apple box. Genny carried the rod with the handhelds and Kaylee held the apple box and supported the wires between them.

"This is phase one," Kaylee said, setting the apple box on the console and clamping the rod with the handhelds on top.

Genny started checking the cables. "This is the power of portable networking devices on a world with decent broadcast signal. So long as we're in range, we can access any surveillance system on world."

The girl unplugged the keyboard from the main console and attached it to her contraption, then keyed in a few commands. On two of the handhelds, he saw a radar map of the world. Genny pointed to a blue dot. "That's us. It's safe to say the locals know we're here."

A few more keystrokes brought a wide view of the planet system. "There are six satellites that we can tap into. Anything they're seeing, we can see too. I didn't have time to decrypt any more."

"Six is plenty," Kaylee said resolutely, placing an encouraging hand on the girl's shoulder. Genny shrugged her off and bit her fingernails, clearly frustrated with the sluggish response of the system. Mal was simply amazed and eager to test the new system.

"We can't control where they look?" Mal asked.

Genny's confidence faltered a little more. She looked at Kaylee, and Mal took that as a no.

"How about communications?" Mal asked.

Genny pointed to the handheld farthest to the left. "This one is set up for that. It's also getting the signal from the outside camera."

"Can I see?"

Genny shrugged and entered the commands, bringing up a picture of grass and cracked dirt.

"We only had the one with wireless transmit," Kaylee explained. I put it under the nose so we could see for take-off and landing. The rest will be attached for phase 2."

Mal recognized the multi-phase plan as something Kaylee had imposed to help Genny deal with the sizable task.

"How long do you need?" Mal asked

Genny blew air from her lips and chewed her nails again. Kaylee swatted her hand to stop her.

"We're waiting for supplies," Kaylee said.

"I'll have the rest soon," Genny promised quietly, keeping her eyes on the keyboard. Mal nodded, watching the screen intently, trying to figure out where the satellites were pointed. Genny stood, offering him the seat, then briefly explained the commands he needed to navigate. Mal had never heard her so timid.

"Can I freeze an image?" Mal asked.

"Maybe," Genny whispered.

Kaylee smacked Mal upside the head and he looked back in annoyance. Then he looked at Genny. The girl bit her lip trying to convince one of the handhelds to take a screen capture fast enough to make a difference. He hadn't meant to put pressure on her; he'd just wanted to know what he was working with.

Mal tapped her shoulder, and she looked at him wearily.

"Give your eyes a rest," Mal said. "Go get some supper."

She didn't move. Kaylee looked sternly at Mal, demanding more on behalf of her daughter. Forcing an encouraging smile, he pulled Genny into a one armed hug and kissed the top of her head.

"You've helped plenty, little miracle worker," he said warmly, and she melted against him. Counting the hours, he figured she should have been not only fed, but tucked into bed by now.

As soon as Genny was gone, Kaylee opened the paneling under the main console and started extracting all the fried parts that needed fixing. Mal ducked his head under the console. He wanted to be encouraging, but tact had never been his forte.

"She's not as sweet as you," Mal joked. "She tries, though."

Kaylee bit her lip and kept working. "Any other day, you can talk to her like that, but she's seen too much today. You will remember that she's a little girl."

Mal took the rebuke in stride, and kept quiet long enough to show that he wouldn't make excuses. When it came to protecting her children, Mal believed Kaylee capable of fierce violence.

"Report?"

"We have steady power to the Infirmary and the guidance systems. Sky is working on gravity. Navigation assist will come with the next computer fix. How much of the hull did Jayne get done?"

"He was tolerance testing last I knew. I need you to check the patch on the port side."

"Sky will see it when she's working the grav line." Kaylee took a deep breath and gathered the parts she'd liberated from the console.

Mal could see the heaviness of the day weighing on her, and he knew her strength was waning. He tugged her wrist, pulling her into a hug, just like he'd done for Genny.

"Good work, mei mei."

Kaylee smiled and rolled her eyes. "Nice try, Captain."

But he didn't let go of her, and her smile grew.

-----

The monitors on River still chirped as slowly and steadily as when she was sleeping, but her eyes were open. Her chest rose and fell sharply, as shallow breaths replaced the smooth steady ones of rest.

"River," Simon said softly, standing to examine his sister. She did not turn her head to the sound of his voice. Her eyelids twittered like she was trying to close them, and Simon thought for a moment, he was seeing some strange sleep-walking phenomenon. But then, she wasn't sleeping; she was medicated.

River sat up suddenly, nearly bumping heads with Simon. Zoë jumped to her feet, scrambling to kick her papers out of the way.

"Her eyes are completely black," Zoë said breathlessly.

"That's because she's sedated." Simon furrowed his brow, unsure of what was going on.

"She's sitting pretty good for that," Zoë chuckled nervously.

River's eyes closed again, but she remained sitting. Ten seconds later, she opened her eyes, and this time the pupils responded appropriately, shrinking in response to the light. Simon touched her face, but she didn't respond. He pressed her shoulder.

"Lie down," he instructed, pushing her shoulder back.

Her arm flailed and she whacked Simon across the cheek in the same way she had the first time she woke up in the Infirmary. Caught off guard, Simon stumbled backward, and Zoë rushed to catch him before he fell on Michael. He found his feet and rushed to control her.

"River –"

River raised her hand and smacked him again, knocking him into the wall so hard he saw stars. Zoë stayed protectively between River and Michael, but screamed for her father. Ignoring them both, River pivoted slowly until she found the door, then walked out.

"Tranq her," Simon ordered Zoë, wincing as he forced himself to sitting.

"Like it'll help!" Zoë carped, but she found the tranq gun and chased River into the hall.

-----

Sky's heart beat like cannon-fire when she heard Zoë scream for Mal. She'd been outside, checking the patch around the grav line and preparing some choice criticism for the work, but as soon as she heard the scream, she dashed inside, hand already on her weapon. Listening carefully, she waited for another scream so she could localize the commotion, but none came.

River stepped purposefully into the cargo bay, slowly surveying the room. Her movements weren't languid and graceful like they usually were. Every turn was mechanical and purposeful. Her tight, black pants revealed every jerky motion of her knees, like she couldn't remember how to walk, and Sky wondered if there was some neurological damage from being nearly dead a few hours ago. River's eyes focused on the open door and she strode forward. Half way across the cargo bay, she stopped and surveyed again. Sky wasn't sure what to do.

Zoë dashed in a few paces behind.

"Are you alright?" Sky asked her.

Zoë pointed to River. "Stop her."

Sky spun around. River stood in front of the weapons locker now, tucking firearms into the waist-band of her pants and covering them with her tattered, yellow sweater. Then she headed for the back door. Sky dashed forward then jumped, launching herself onto River's back. The move propelled both sideways into the wall. River's head smacked against Sky's already bruised face, and Sky's vision went spotty.

They tumbled to the floor and Sky yanked one of the two guns out of River's waist-band and tossed it aside. River struck back, driving the heel of her hand into Sky's nose, nearly breaking it. Sky snarled viciously and elbowed River's temple, rolling to get a better grip. She'd nearly gained the upper hand when River, by some feat of magic, found the leverage to launch Sky three feet through the air and into the opposite wall.

"Sky!"

Hearing the footsteps of reinforcement, Sky leaned heavily on the wall, and sank to the floor.

-----

Mal charged down the stairs as Zoë ran up.

"Zo?"

"Aunt River," Zoë cried. "She's possessed!"

River lorded over Sky, kicking her chest, gun in hand. Sky's hand curled over her own gun, waiting out the punishment for the opportunity to strike again. When she heard Mal's approach, she released her weapon and brought her hands up to block the kicks.

Mal sped toward the tussle, tackling River sideways drawing the fight toward the center of the bay. River rolled away easily, and Mal stayed light on the balls of his feet, ducking every swing. He didn't like that she was possessed, but he did appreciate that whoever had taken her wasn't as good a fighter. River wouldn't be taking wild swings at him. Mal threw a punch that connected and knocked River to the ground, but she didn't stay there. He heard the clank of metal, and froze as River pulled a gun and aimed it at him.

Zoë ran onto the catwalk, tranq gun aimed. Before Mal could shout a warning, Zoë fired. The shot connected with River's shoulder, and River turned and fired her gun at Zoë, but missed. She took aim at Zoë again, but Sky sprang in from the side, kicking the gun out of River's hand. The shot went wild. River pushed Sky, slamming them both into the wall. Sky fell unconscious, and River pulled another weapon and took aim at Sky.

Swallowing any hesitation and focusing only on the danger, Mal drew his gun and aimed at River.

The world froze.

"River!" Simon cried, running into the room, cheek bleeding.

Mal held up his hand. "Stay back, son. The last thing we need is a hole in you're chest."

Simon looked at him, eyes desperate, pleading on behalf of his sister. River surveyed the quiet of the room, gun still trained on Sky. She looked curiously at the weapon in Mal's hand.

"You would kill her?"

Mal took it as a threat on Sky. "I would kill you."

River laughed eerily.

"You care for her too much to do that," River taunted, then nodded toward Simon. "Well, he does."

Simon took a step forward, but froze when River's hand twitched on the trigger.

"Is she coming back?" Simon asked tentatively. "Is River coming –"

River scoffed critically and aimed her weapon at Simon to ward him off. "Would you have her? Even after –"

River cut off arrogantly and swung the weapon back to Mal, threatening to pull the trigger. Mal raised his hands in surrender and tensed. He circled wide and slow, drawing River's angle just enough, hoping his angels on high took the hint.

BANG!

A loud shot echoed as Jayne, on the catwalk, shot the gun right out of River's hand. The gun exploded on impact and they all ducked. River rolled away, wiping her bleeding hand on her sweater, and pulling another weapon out of her belt. How many had she taken?

Jayne ran downstairs, coming to Mal's side. Both Mal and Jayne had their weapons on River now. Mal glanced at the catwalk. Zoë had traded the tranq gun for a rifle and took aim.

River took a threatening step toward Sky, but froze when Jayne growled.

"One step closer, and the next bullet goes between your eyes."

River raised her eyebrow approvingly. "He would kill me."

She looked to the bay door and backed out slowly. No one wanted to shoot her, and she knew that. They let her go.

-----


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Deafening silence followed River's departure. It was a full half minute before the tension broke and Mal clicked the safety on his weapon.

"River!" Simon called, running to the back door in chase. Mal caught the back of his shirt. He struggled and punched, but Mal ducked easily.

"You, tend Sky," he ordered, keeping his voice low and firm. Jayne was already kneeling next to his wife, dabbing her face with his glove to get a better sense of where the blood was coming from.

Mal went to the back door and looked out, but River had already disappeared into the foothills. Zoë came next to him, and Mal caught her before she could run out.

"She's going east, toward the fires," Zoë said quickly, craning her neck to see out the door.

"You can't know that for sure," Mal said.

Zoë took a step back, squaring her shoulders militantly, replacing her careless urgency with sagacious calm. "I hit her with a tracking dart."

Zoë held up a GPS handheld and pointed to the dot indicating the fleeing River. Impressed, but grim, Mal gathered as much reason and wit as he could, and enough courage to let Zoë fly on her own.

"Follow her," Mal said. "You and Jayne."

Zoë looked at him, awestruck, but there was no time for a pep talk now. She had been preparing for this job her whole life.

Mal summoned Jayne with a shout and a wave, and within seconds, they had gathered the gear they needed. Jayne kept looking back at Sky, but Mal tapped his arm, and Jayne changed his focus to the task at hand.

"See where she's going and what she's up to," Mal ordered, testing the batteries in the radio before handing it to Zoë. "Track, but do not engage."

They left, and Mal locked the door behind them. This was not his best day ever.

-----

Jayne was getting too old for this – tracking a young, vibrant, thoroughly possessed woman across the foothills of Kerry, thick with smoke. One day he would convince Mal to retire to a paradise planet so they could live out their days as old men… or at least as old fathers.

He remembered so clearly the days before Little Zoë was born, when her daddy died saving the 'verse from the evil Alliance. Jayne had thought it ended there – that he'd lived through every story worth telling. Now here he was, seventeen years later, still alive, watching little Zoë take the first steps into the same age-old battle that took her father's life. He was passing the torch. He was too old for this, and she was far too young.

Zoë handed him a handkerchief from her satchel and he held it over his face to keep the smoke from stinging his lungs. He could see the glow of the blaze, and they were heading right for it. A gust of wind nearly knocked Jayne over, and he closed his eyes as a thick plume of smoke passed. Zoë grabbed hold of his hand, and they pressed against each other, back to back, ready to defend themselves when the air cleared.

The smoke thinned, and they were still alive. Jayne opened his eyes and scanned quickly. They'd lost River again.

"She's that way," Zoë said softly, touching his arm, then pointing.

Jayne checked the tracker in her hand, and they set off again.

"That was fast thinking, hitting her with a tracker," Jayne said.

Zoë smiled proudly. "Thanks."

"Next time, try thinking of something that won't get you shot at. River doesn't miss, even with her eyes closed."

Zoë deflated a little, but would not be crushed. "She missed me."

"That's 'cause whoever's possessing her is a bad shot."

"Or she's fighting back," Zoë said firmly. "There's still a chance to save her."

"And if there isn't?"

Jayne could tell she was still trying to convince herself that there was hope. No matter how long they worked together, no matter how much like family they had become, Jayne had always felt he carried the bullet for River. He thought the time had come back there in the cargo bay, but Mal had given him an option and he'd shot the gun out of River's hand instead. Mal still thought they could save her. So did Zoë.

"We have to try," she said firmly.

-----

Simon knelt over Sky, but the first aid kit hadn't been replenished in the last few hours, so he used his sleeve in lieu of gauze. The cuts from before had busted open, and the entire right side of Sky's face was covered in blood. She had a shallow gash by her eye, her lip was busted, and her nose bled profusely. He tilted her head sideways so she wouldn't choke, but she had other plans.

As soon as she had a firm grasp on consciousness, Sky lifted her head and hawked a mouthful of blood. She moaned softly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Stay down," Simon soothed. "Don't move."

"This is gonna go down as one of those really crappy days," Sky complained, ignoring him and pushing up onto her elbows. She surveyed the cargo bay. Finally, Kaylee ran in with a handful of supplies and Simon started cleaning Sky's wounds. Her nose wasn't broken, but it was bruised seriously.

Sky squirmed irritably, wincing with every touch of the gauze to her skin. Simon sent Kaylee for an anesthetic, knowing he'd need it to stitch Sky up properly. Sky groaned and touched the bump on the back of her head, which had probably doubled in size since the landing fiasco.

"All those times me and River sparred, I never realized she was going so easy on me," Sky laughed.

"You really should lie down," Simon said again as she pushed herself to sitting. She would've listened to him if Jayne were here.

"You know better than to tell me that," Sky grunted and smiled slyly. "You're out of sedatives aren't you?"

Frustrated, Simon placed pressure on her nose as he cleaned it. She winced and pulled back.

"Ow," Sky said crossly, but he kept using the pressure to coax her down. "Ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"Doc!" Mal hollered, and Simon looked back innocently.

"I need her whole," Mal said irately. "This is no time for games."

Simon looked back at Sky who now lay obediently on the ground, brooding, and holding her hand protectively over her face.

Simon kept that unnervingly cold tone in his voice, and addressed Sky quietly. "I can't waste meds getting you to listen. I will tie you down if I have to."

Sky chuckled, but ducked her eyes in defeat, surrendering to his care. "Cap said no games."

-----

Mal wanted to believe the day couldn't get any worse, but he was distinctly aware that this was only the middle – if they'd made it to the middle yet. Inara was still out on a supply run, he'd just sent Jayne and Zoë to chase a rogue River, Sky would probably need another hour before the world stopped swaying, and even then she wouldn't last long in a fight. If Cole's arm weren't broken, Mal would've expected to see him on the catwalk next to Zoë, weapon at ready.

Of the younger kids, Cole was the only one Mal trusted to have his own gun. Mal had taken his son to get it on his eleventh birthday, despite Inara's protests. But Mal had spent time training all the kids, and he'd recognized that point when Cole stopped seeing it as a game and accepted the gun as a tool, and its use as a basic necessity of their way of life. As much as he was still a boy, Mal's son was taking his first steps into manhood. He'd nearly gotten himself splattered, running to catch his falling brother. He wouldn't have done that a year ago.

Feeling woozy himself, Mal went to the Infirmary to find something to clear the ringing in his ears and check on his younger son. Michael lay on the center bed, his chest bare, a long scar across his belly, every joint and long-bone braced. Mal's jaw tensed and his insides quivered with empathy. He leaned over to see.

"Daddy?"

Mal froze, and looked at his son's face. The voice wasn't right, but there was little Michael, gazing up at him, eyes wide and calm as the sea. Mal's kids never called him daddy. It was always the Chinese – always Baba. Inara had started it, Zoë perpetuated it, and Mal had learned to love it. It helped with telling him and Simon apart. So when Michael called him 'daddy,' he knew it wasn't his son. Like Simon had said about River, he didn't even recognize the person whose eyes he was looking into.

"Hey, little one," Mal said cautiously.

He wanted to say don't speak. He knew he should call for Simon. He was mesmerized by the depth in Michael's eyes and scared as hell that the boy would defy his injuries and follow River out the door. Michael scrutinized him carefully, then spoke again.

"Tell Sky I'm sorry – sorry for shooting her."

"What?"

Michael looked sideways, but couldn't move his neck for the bracing.

"Not much time," he said. "He'll notice me gone. But he doesn't know my secret. I can talk to you."

Mal's jaw dropped. "River?"

"Am I speaking? Say something!" Michael – River – demanded urgently. "Ten hours. I need you there."

"What is happening to you? What happened to Michael?"

Michael's face screwed quizzically. "Bu wen."

"Michael?"

Michael's eyes widened in alarm. "Don't say his name. Don't bring him here."

"Michael," Mal repeated urgently.

"Not strong enough," Michael whined. He screamed, fighting the braces and straps holding him to the bed. Mal cradled his face, whispering desperate soothes as Michael's eyes rolled back.

"Baba!" It was a soundless shriek, but more typical of Michael than the loud cries. Michael's eyes squeezed shut, and his back arched in silent fit. Michael never left a mark on the soundscape if he didn't have to, and it was the most terrifying muted scream Mal ever felt. He cupped his hand over Michael's ear and leaned in until their faces touched. Unable to clear his own mind like he wanted, he focused on repeating a short poem that Michael had made up during one of their games. It seemed silly, but it was the most effective way to calm his son.

Michael pressed his cheek against Mal's and panted heavily.

"You sent her away," he whimpered, just before passing out.

-----

Jayne had found a way to tie the handkerchief around his big head so that he didn't have to keep holding it. They'd been tracking River for nearly an hour, off the plateau, between the foothills, and now into the burning forest. Twice already, they'd been sprinkled by aircraft dropping chemical retardants to fight the fire. Jayne was glad they both wore long sleeves.

"There," Jayne whispered, pointing as he acquired visual on River again. Zoë rested her hand on the butt of her gun and stepped forward, but Jayne placed held his arm sideways to stop them.

River paused, listening.

Jayne pressed his lips together. He was used to doing this with Sky or Mal. Zoë knew stealth, but not tracking. She didn't know any of the signs they used in the field.

"Stay," Jayne whispered, leaving her to cross-flank.

Satisfied with the sounds of the forest, River started moving again. Zoë followed almost immediately – too closely. Although River didn't stop, Jayne could tell by the way her head was bowed that she heard Zoë behind her. Her chin never turned his way, so he figured she didn't know he was on the opposite side. Zoë must've noticed too, because she fell back and moved quietly, to a point where Jayne could barely find her. The girl learned quickly.

-----

Mal hunched over the make-shift computer, punching in codes carefully. He'd crashed the thing twice in the last hour, and had since learned not to hit the escape key – ever. There were several ships in orbit, but none looked like the one that had shot them down, if that is what happened. The whole thing was starting to feel like a mass hallucination, and given the psychic chaos with River and Michael, that was not beyond the realm of possibility.

He hadn't told anyone about River talking through Michael. Didn't know how. Didn't want to believe that his little boy could be a gorram time bomb waiting to go off. He would ask Zoë, when she got back. Zoë knew more than anyone about these things; that's why he'd sent her after River. He worried for Zoë being out there with Jayne, but tried not to at the same time. She was strong and he'd trained her as best he could. He'd just always imagined going on this first job with her. But everything had gone to hell so quick and Jayne wasn't short two pints of blood.

Mal switched view from space to the world, locating the mule. The feed kept switching, but they were on a four minute rotation and he got half a second of looking before the view changed again. He'd caught Inara just as she left town and she was blasting across the open lands so fast that Mal suspected trouble. The setting sun was no help, so Mal found his binoculars and went to the top of the ship to use his own eyes.

The winds had shifted and the air was clearing up, but now the day was late enough and the sun was red of its own accord. Mal heard the mule before he saw it, and he wondered what had lit such a fire under Inara. What if she'd been body snatched like River had and she wreaked havoc on the ship? He'd wait until he saw her eyes. He'd know then.

-----

Inara wanted to make it back to Serenity before sunset. The temperature had dropped ten degrees since she'd left town, and the wind whipping harshly against her skin only made it more noticeable. She didn't know if it was the glare of sunset that prevented her from seeing Serenity, or if they hadn't yet restored the external lights. Her radio was buried under the fresh supplies, and the cost of leaving town with it was higher than she'd anticipated.

Cresting the last hill, the ship finally came into view, resting securely on the plateau just where she'd left it. The back door was closed, meaning no one was watching for her return. She only prayed things had not gotten worse since she'd left.

Pulling the mule to a stop, she hopped off and tried the door.

Locked.

Frustrated, she ran back to the mule, and started digging out the radio. When she heard the first click of a weapon cocking, she had her gun drawn and trained on the sound before the sound completed. She relaxed when she saw Mal, but he watched her warily, keeping the gun trained. When Inara removed her goggles and scarf, Mal lowered the weapon slowly.

"You locked me out," Inara said in mock accusation, wary of his cautious behavior, but pretending to ignore it.

Mal finally holstered the weapon and unlocked the door. "It's been that kind of day. Report."

It was so cold – his voice, the night air. Inara feared it wouldn't be warm and safe inside like she wanted.

"I have all the medical supplies, but only rank one mechanical," she answered, waiting for the back ramp to lower, then driving in slowly. "They seemed a little too interested in a possible salvage."

Mal nodded, and went to the bottom of the stairs, hollering up. "Tams! Your stuff is here!"

He locked the door, then returned to the mule, reaching up a hand. Inara handed him the first of the medicine crates. She caught the flash in his eye when he noticed the ring missing from her finger.

"I didn't see anyone following," Mal said.

Inara looked at the closed door, shaking her head. "Don't expect them to come with torches and pitch forks. These are the high class criminals. The kind with experimental weapons that knock you out of the sky. The kind that can take what they want and make us disappear."

Inara sat heavily on the side of the mule, then inhaled and straightened her posture. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, leaving long black streaks of smeared ash. Over the years, she'd become more lax about maintaining a pristine appearance all the time, starting mainly when she'd been pregnant with Cole. Mal found it endearing most times, but today, in this single hand stroke, she'd wiped away as much strength as beauty. The last of her defenses were crumbling under the strain, and her inner warrior frantically threw up whatever shield she could find to keep from breaking.

Silently, Mal sat next to her, placing a hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over her naked ring finger. Closing her eyes and swallowing, Inara reached into her blouse, pulled out her wedding ring, and handed it to Mal. Warmth stirred in her soul as he slid the ring on her finger and kissed her hand. They shared a brief smile, the tender connection momentarily lifting them above their circumstances into the rapture of togetherness.

It was a stolen moment, but it was enough. In it, they each found the strength they needed to keep going, and neither wanted to move.

Inara looked sideways, then back upstairs, knowing that Simon and Kaylee hadn't come for their supplies because they were probably sitting together, having stolen moments of their own.

"The boys made supper," Mal said softly. "Seems we were being neglectful."

Inara nodded wistfully. "Shame on us."

-----

Jayne tried to tell himself that it was the smoke burning his lungs, but the throb in his hip told him he was just getting old. That, or he'd been shot in the hip one too many times. He opted for the latter, applauded the subsequent miracle of Emily's conception and the wholeness of his man parts, and used the vigor that came with thoughts of his wife toward keeping his mind off his burning lungs and throbbing hip.

River had picked up pace twenty minutes ago, and he practically had to run to keep up. He caught more glimpses of Zoë now. They were in the thick of the blaze, surrounded by a ring of flame, and Jayne hoped they could find their way out again.

River stopped suddenly, and Zoë, to her credit, veered wide rather than make a ruckus trying to stop. In the midst of the trees stood a one-roomed log house, with a thatched roof, clearly designed to blend in. The house would not survive if the fire closed in.

A guard in a green uniform stood by the door, gun strapped to his hip, fire extinguisher within arms reach. Jayne figured him local law or small-time hire, because he didn't recognize the uniform. River strode purposefully up to the guard, who stood arrogantly. He crossed his arms, clearly not expecting trouble from someone as unimposing as River, so he wasn't prepared when she struck him, driving the heel of her hand into his nose, going beyond breaking it, and shoving the cartilage into his brain. The man fell to the ground, seized, and died. River stepped over him to go inside.

Zoë dashed out of the forest, making a beeline for the door, nearly colliding with the next guard that came out. The man knocked Zoë to the ground, but she rolled and drew her gun. Jayne charged through the trees, bringing his fist down on the guard's head, knocking him cold.

The man collapsed, and the forest went silent. Zoë stayed down until Jayne reached out a hand to help her up. He gave Zoë a stern look with Mal's mantra all over it – don't kill anyone you don't have to.

"I was just gonna kneecap him," Zoë said defensively.

"Get a few kills under your belt, then you can get casual about kneecapping." The last thing he wanted was for her first kill to be an accident. Saving the lecture, he dragged the body of the unconscious guard away from the door. Zoë holstered her weapon, reached for the feet of the guard River had killed and did the same. When they'd gone about three trees deep into the forest, Zoë paused and knelt over the dead guard, fingering the patch on his shirt.

"I know that sign," she whispered, her breath quickening. "I've seen it before."

Jayne pulled out his knife and cut out the insignia.

"Back to the ship," he said, standing.

"But –"

"It's getting dark and we have but a hundred rounds between us."

Zoë raised an eyebrow, knowing that most of those hundred rounds were strapped to Jayne. Jayne shifted on his feet, not appreciating the resistance he sensed in her.

"This was recon," Jayne explained. "Now we regroup and plan."

"I have a plan. I'm going in after Aunt River."

Jayne grabbed Zoë's elbow as she headed back to the house. "That place is not what it seems."

"Every minute she's in there puts the rest of us in danger –"

The door to the house opened. Jayne clamped a hand over Zoë's mouth and pulled her back, further into the woods, then up the nearest tree that looked like it could support him. Another armed guard glanced warily out the door, looking for his comrades. The man noticed the drag marks on the ground and looked into the woods, radioing someone inside that he may need backup. He pulled a hi-tech laser pistol and cautiously followed the trail.

Jayne released Zoë and climbed higher into the tree, looking for an escape that didn't involve going down. He drew his gun as the guard followed the markings and uncovered the two bodies, then stabilized himself so he could aim.

The branch below him creaked as Zoë adjusted position and the guard spun around, trying to source the sound. Zoë shot him between the eyes.

Jayne bit back his surprise as Zoë jumped to the ground, then turned dangerously.

"There's one. I'm going in."

Jayne hurried out of the tree to stop her. His boots had barely hit dirt before two more guards emerged from the house, having heard the shot. Zoë froze, but they spotted her easily, standing in open forest. Turning on her heels, she ran, and Jayne waited until she'd passed him before he started running too. If anything happened to Zoë, Mal would kill him!

"Remember what I said about not getting shot!"

Zoë looked sideways and grinned adventurously. "You're just jealous because I shot first."

-----


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The ship was quiet, drained of energy, even as the power on the upper deck was restored. The sun had set three hours ago, but there was still no word from Jayne and Zoë. Sky had emerged from her bunk just long enough to retrieve Emily and give Jamie a rest. Inara had locked herself onto the bridge, trying to find help in the vicinity, because she'd dared not ask in town. Mal paced the ship bow to bay, righting fallen furniture, replacing panels, moving cables to the side of the halls, making the ship as safe as possible in its current condition.

Coming up the stairs, he was surprised to see Sky unlocking the weapons cabinet, and he immediately worried that she'd suffered River's fate. Mal rested his hand on his gun and moved closer.

"Between you and Jayne, there aren't enough weapons in your bunk?"

Sky didn't even flinch. Mal credited himself with pretty keen senses, but Sky was virtually impossible to sneak up on.

"Guns a-plenty," Sky answered lightly. "I'm here for chocolate."

She flashed a wily smile, keeping focus on her mission and Mal relaxed, chastising his paranoia. Sky kept a stash of chocolate in the weapons locker because the temperature and humidity were controlled, and the children couldn't get at it. The adults were another story, and Mal was pretty sure Inara and Zoë had made a serious dent in the stash the day before.

"I need to talk to you," Mal said.

Sky's hands froze and she looked at him, immediately concerned. "Jayne? Zoë?"

Mal shook his head. "No word. They went into the fire zone five hours ago there's too much noise in the infrared to track them."

"What then?" She resumed her search of the weapons locker. Her face was swollen and purple and she sounded funny because she wasn't breathing through her nose.

"This ship that shot us down – did Walker see it?"

"I'm not sure. He might've," she shrugged, finding a handful of candy wrappers and tossing them over her shoulder. Mal picked up the trash.

"We just set the agreement and he left. He didn't seem over-eager."

"But he agreed quickly."

Sky smiled slyly, her blue eyes sparkling in a way that defied her injuries. "You know me. What's this about?"

Mal shook his head and leaned against the railing of the catwalk, looking down the floor into the bay. He shuddered at the shiny spot on the deck were the blood had been wiped clean with solvent and wondered if he'd ever be able to stand up here again and just look. Pressing his eyes closed, he turned his back to the bay and stood next to Sky, watching as she dug through carefully arranged stacks of ammo. She glanced at him expectantly.

"I just wonder, with all the mind games," he began.

Sky stopped moving and glared at him, catching accusation in his words. "You saw it, right? We both saw it. The sensors saw it too."

"Did the proximity alarm go off?"

Sky's chest puffed, offended at the notion that the ship wasn't real. Her eyes flashed with anger, but she reined it with reason.

"Ghosts don't blast shockwaves through atmo."

"River has been knocked off her feet more than once without being touched," Mal pointed out. "Genny said it looked like Michael was thrown."

Mal nearly choked on his words, it hurt so much to say.

"Serenity is not River. Our electrical systems are fried," Sky said, her voice low and menacing. "Explain that."

"I can't." Mal stood his ground, face neutral, showing it was a brainstorm not an arguement. Finally the tension drained and she turned back to the arranged boxes.

"Did the proximity alarm go off?" Mal asked her again.

Sky slammed her fist against the door frame, then leaned against it. "We're out of chocolate."

"Sky."

She inhaled loudly and touched her bruised face tenderly with her knuckles. "I don't remember."

-----

Mal brooded over the strange ship, wondering if it mattered whether the thing was physical or imagined. Sky was right. The physical effects were damaging enough without having to worry about the thing appearing randomly. If any part of the computer memory survived, he could check the logs to see if the proximity alert went off. That would mean something physical, right? Yawning widely, Mal headed for the galley. The end of this day was already six hours overdue and he needed coffee.

The light from the galley glowed dimly orange, looking soft and peaceful. When stepped through the entrance, he saw Simon kneeling over Cole, tenderly checking the boy's injuries. Mal was concerned at first, seeing Cole's leg twisted at an odd angle, then he realized it was actually Jamie's leg, and the two kids had fallen asleep on the couch in a tangled mix. Simon arranged the two carefully, then put a blanket over them.

"Don't know why I spent good coin on beds for this lot," Mal joked.

Simon jumped, startled, but recovered quickly. "Mattress forts and trampolines," he answered, tenderly smoothing the hair away from Jamie's face. "And in the event of a water landing …"

The two men smiled at the weak joke. Neither would tell the other to get rest. Both knew they needed it. Both knew there was little point in trying to get it.

Simon went to the galley and prepared a tray of juice and baked protein nuggets. "Are you hungry? Genny requested sustenance."

Mal shook his head and found his coffee press, wondering if Kaylee would smack Simon upside the head for talking wrong to Genny. All the children had put in more than a fair share today.

"Don't work her too hard," Mal said. "The fixes she's done will keep us till morning. She should rest."

Simon smiled and rubbed his ear. "You're kidding right? You've asked her to rebuild the ship's computer from the circuit board up. It's like Christmas came early for her. If she's like me at that age, she won't sleep 'til it's done."

Mal was going to say something about Christmas being less tragic than their current predicament, but given the last few Christmases they'd had, he really couldn't.

-----

Their pursuers gave up after the second mile, which was good, because Jayne was getting winded, and had half a mind to turn and fight, hundred rounds or not. It took an hour after that to get reoriented, and find a way through the fires which had closed around their initial entrance path. The day of breathing in ashes made his throat sting, and sometimes he'd start coughing so hard his head hurt.

Zoë was thinking up a storm, and kept looking over her shoulder, fingering the butt of her gun. At first, Jayne thought they were being followed, but Zoë's face was pale, and Jayne knew she was feeling that first kill. He kept their pace quick as they crossed the border of the forest into the foothills. The temperature had dropped, the winds had changed direction, and despite the clearing air, he did not want to camp outside tonight.

"You're slowing us down," he nagged, as they crested a hill and she looked back toward the forest again.

Zoë looked at him sadly, her face smudged with soot and tears. "We abandoned her."

"And the sooner we get reinforcements, the sooner we can go back and rescue her," Jayne pointed out, walking again, hoping she'd follow. "Did you see how fast the guards were leaking out of that building? What we're facing ain't small."

Zoë followed slowly. "We could've –"

"What?" Jayne challenged harshly. "Gone in and talked sense into River. Tied her down and carried her back? She would've killed us all to get off Serenity, and we do not want to force trouble like that into our hold. She ain't coming back until she's un … un-possessed."

"What if they move her?" Zoë asked. Her voice was all high-pitched and timid.

"She killed the gorram guard. Whoever's there, they don't control her," Jayne said, but Zoë wasn't comforted. "The tracker's still working, right?"

"What if –"

Jayne held up a hand to silence her. "Do not go thinking the ifs. Not unless it helps you make a plan to save her."

"I did have a plan," Zoë said angrily. "Go in and get her."

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Think in ways that won't get you shot."

Closing the conversation, he picked up pace again going down the hill, plotting a path between the hills so they wouldn't have to keep going up and down to get home. Zoë hustled up next to him and crossed her arms, keeping her eyes on her footing.

"I'm cold," she said softly.

"I'm hungry," Jayne countered unsympathetically. He wished he had a flash light, or that the moon were a little fuller. He hadn't expected to be gone for so many hours.

Zoë reached into her satchel, and handed Jayne a cereal bar. His lips parting in breathless surprise, Jayne accepted the gift, and his heart melted so thoroughly it leaked out his boots and left a trail on the hills. He put an arm around Zoë to keep her warm as they walked. People always told him that he was warm like a furnace.

-----

Simon balanced the food tray carefully, thinking that maybe he should've asked Mal for a share in that coffee. His insides ached sharply from exhaustion and it felt like he'd swallowed a steel rod and that was the only thing keeping his body from collapsing in exhaustion. He'd skimmed through all the papers Zoë had left behind, and commandeered the computer on the bridge long enough to download the neuroscience journals onto a handheld. Even if River returned, there was nothing he could do for her until her mind was released. It was possible that whoever took her was sending her on a suicide mission. They'd asked if he would have her back. Would he have her back, knowing they could come at any time and turn her into an assassin?

The cup on the tray rattled and Simon paused, taking a moment to lean against the wall, and regain his composure. The engine room was a mess when he entered, and Genny was in the thick of it, her body twisted in a back bend. Then she kicked her leg and did a walk over, landing gracefully between two tracks of cable bundles. It reminded Simon of River. Genny could be such a tomboy, but she loved to dance. River trained her during the year, and for two months last summer, they'd sent her to a dance school. Simon would make sure she went again if he had to steal the money himself.

Genny stretched her sides, and smiled when she noticed him, accepting the food offering. They sat in the middle of the floor and she nibbled while she resumed her work. Simon glanced sideways and noticed Kaylee dozing lightly in the hammock, arm thrown over her eyes, one leg hanging out the side.

"Mom couldn't take it, huh?"

Genny shrugged. "Just a ten minute power nap."

"How many of those has she had?"

Genny reached into her tool box and consulted a watch. "This would be her fifth consecutive one."

Simon nodded, and hugged his knees, watching Genny work. She was in the assembly and power testing phase. Every now and then, she'd tell him to flip a switch or hand her the amp meter. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and timid.

"Is Aunt River going to be okay?"

Genny didn't even look at him when she asked and Simon was hesitant to answer. She'd let him get away with not answering, but no answer seemed too much like saying no.

"I don't know, bao bao. I hope so."

Genny sniffled tearlessly and kept going. "Me too."

He was trying to be strong for her and she for him. How long could they go on like this?

Simon nodded toward Kaylee again. "Did she have more work? Maybe I should wake her."

"No. She'll just lay there and cry," Genny said bitterly. "Especially if all you're gonna do is sit there and look at her like a doctor."

Simon's jaw dropped at the harsh accusation, but he knew he deserved it. His kids captured every nuance of emotion between him and his wife. Any bit of joy between him and Kaylee was reflected in their eyes; any bit of tension reflected two-fold.

Crossing over to the hammock, Simon squatted so his face was next to Kaylee's. He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, and the dried stain of salty tears where her arm covered her eyes.

"Mind if I join you?"

Kaylee blinked and shifted in the hammock, her face scrunching, like she was about to cry again. "Is it over?"

Simon cradled her face as she watched him in desperation. Too often, he waited until the worst was past before coming to her.

"Far from it," he answered honestly. "But it's quiet enough for the moment."

Kaylee nodded, and closed her eyes, swallowing a sob. "Don't play a part for me. I know who you are, Simon Tam. You keep your heart in a lock box where you think it's safe."

"Yes, well," Simon acknowledged, ducking his head guiltily, angry with himself for being so self-absorbed that he'd been blind to Kaylee's pain. "The lock box got smashed by an overly observant child and my heart is torn in a thousand pieces and the only one I can find right now is the one telling me I love you. So make a space."

Biting her lip, Kaylee lifted slowly, making space for him in the hammock, and then they shimmied until she was lying on top of him. He could feel the wetness on her cheek as she pressed her face next to his.

"Love you," she whispered in his ear, and he wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair.

He did not want to cry. Not here. Not with his daughter watching. But he had no defense against Kaylee; he didn't need one for the way she sheltered him with love, peace, and safety. She kissed his bruised cheek, where River had struck him twice that day. Then she laid her head down on the pillow next to his, not pressing him for anything more. A few tears fell, unbidden, down Simon's cheek, and Kaylee opened her eyes, watching them fall, honoring their meaning, and offering only her presence. He met her eyes for as long as he could, sharing pain that he couldn't put into words, taking comfort where comfort had no right to be. Then he closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

-----

Mal paced the bridge, radio in hand, trying not to rip his hair out from the roots. Inara had told him that if he had to, he should aim for the gray ones, but Mal didn't find that funny. The coffee had made him more awake, but now his mind buzzed over the fact that Jayne and Zoë were still out there and he hadn't heard a word. He wasn't in a panic, but he was very intensely concerned.

Inara ignored him fervently, occupying the computer, and glaring at him when he hovered too close.

"Can you stop for awhile," Mal said impatiently. "I need the band width to link into the sat feeds."

"Just twenty more minutes. I'm close to an answer. I feel it."

"What's the question?" Mal asked stupidly.

"The question? The question!" she cried, lunging toward him like all of hell's fury. "The question is what is happening to my son! What is this weapon against readers and how do we fight it?"

"We don't know that there's a weapon," Mal said, his voice louder than it should be. He'd lost his calm to the caffeine. "Could be Michael reacted to River. She's possessed, you know."

"No," Inara said adamantly, crossing her arms and turning back to the computer. Her whole body shook with rage. "No, Michael doesn't do that. If Sky's testy, he's irritable. If Zoë's angsty, he's miserable. But River can be in tantrum and it doesn't affect him at all."

"Now you're exaggerating."

"They're shielded from each other," Inara insisted, turning back to face him. "Somehow. If that's possible, then there has to be a way to shield them from this weapon."

Mal looked heavenward in frustration. "No one will post a how-to on the cortex. Give it a rest. I need to check outside and make sure no one's taken undue interest in us."

"What if they have?" Inara demanded throwing her arms up in challenge. "Will we move the ship? Are we all going to go out back and push?!"

Mal raised his hand, ready to hit, but he caught himself, and embraced her instead. She struggled against him, but he held her close, fighting his own rage.

"Get some rest, 'Nara," he pleaded, trying to impart peace, though he had none of his own. "Twenty minutes. Thirty if you can. I'll wake you when I'm done."

She stopped struggling, but pounded against his chest in frustration, finally letting loose the screams of agony she'd kept bottled in since all this started. Mal felt tears stinging his own eyes, as much from sharing her pain as knowing the source.

She rubbed her face miserably against his chest and he held on for dear life, thinking how close they'd come to losing their beloved sons. Thinking of how much they still had left to lose. Inara fisted the fabric of shirt, and closed in the pain again, fighting for control, because they weren't anywhere near through this.

"When I saw them… when I – I very nearly threw myself next to them."

Mal cringed and held her tighter.

-----

Inara curled into the Captain's chair, eyes closed, overwhelmed with exhaustion. It was nearing midnight world time, but given that they'd been near ship's evening when all this started, it had been almost 24 hours since they'd last slept. Mal focused intently on the computer, completely failing to uplink vid to the satellites. He huffed in frustration, glad when Kaylee dashed into the room, trailing a new cable. She pulled a panel off the wall, connected her lead, and half the lights on the bridge came to life.

"Kaylee, can you fix this damn connection."

"No need, Captain, we're about to upgrade," Kaylee said cheerfully, and Mal had to wonder at the fresh spring in her step. She came over to him, powered down the computer he was working on, and started disconnecting it.

Mal watched in dismay and was about to protest, but then Genny came skipping up the stairs carrying a new box and a board.

"I made a dummy to test the resistance," she said happily, then shooed Mal away from the console.

"You're done?" Mal asked incredulously, backing away and watching the miracle unwind.

Genny took over his seat, lifting the panels, and placing fresh bits where Kaylee had extracted the fried ones earlier.

"Basic I/O only," Genny explained. "The interface needs massaging."

"Try it now," Kaylee said.

Genny did and the monitors lit up, glowing bright, but not outshining the smile on her face.

"Where's the vid?" Mal asked. "Do we have it?"

"We will," Kaylee smiled.

"Test is clean, Mom. Let me swap out the dummy."

Mal's heart swelled, glad something was finally going right. Genny pulled out the dummy board and smiled broadly. Then high-pitched whine filled the room and half a second later, the power surged and the console burst into flames.

-----


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Genny!" Kaylee screamed.

Mal grabbed the girl under the shoulders and pulled out of the chair, away from the flames. Tucking her against his body, he turned and crouched, forming a protective cave around her. Melted bits of paneling sprayed through the air, grating across his back, slicing through his shirt. The first second extended an eternity, and the next second, Inara doused the flames with the fire extinguisher which sprinkled a cool mist against Mal's bleeding skin. He was keenly aware of Genny, breathing heavily against his chest, not daring to move until he moved first.

Mal glanced up, untucking enough to set Genny on the ground.

"Genny?" Kaylee said again, rushing to them. Mal allowed them a brief moment.

"Oww," Genny said, annoyance coating the complaint more than pain. Her hands and face were red, but nothing life threatening.

"Kaylee, fix the ship," Mal ordered.

"Simon, we need a Genny kit on the bridge. Minor burns," Inara called over the comm. Being allergic to needles, Genny had her own special med kits, but most were on the lower deck.

Inara rushed to Mal next, fussing over the cuts on his back. He shrugged her off, but she stood firm, pulling the larger splinters. Mal inhaled sharply as his vision went spotted, feeling like he'd been lashed. He focused on Genny, because it hurt too much to fight with Inara. Genny trembled from the shock and adrenaline rush, and still clutched the new computer board in her hand.

"I'm okay," she insisted, trying to sit up. "Let's try it in the second console."

"No," Mal said softly, ghosting his hand over the burns on her face. She closed her eyes and pulled back. "You sit tight. Wait for help."

Mal took the board from her and handed it to Inara, hoping she knew more of what needed to be done. Inara wiped her bloody hands on his sleeve and stood.

"We still have power," Mal said, surveying the bridge, confused. Kaylee had pulled half her cables out and was checking the power source frantically.

"The engine output is completely stable," she reported. "That surge was external."

External? They were under attack!

Again.

-----

The lights flickered through the entire lower deck, but the emergency back-ups kicked in. Simon was in the middle of mixing a fresh batch of meds for Michael. The way River had described it to him, there were always waves of energy through the psychic plane. Sometimes a surge of energy would wash over her like a tsunami, and she couldn't find her physical self any more. Those were the times when her heart rate would spike for no reason, her lungs would spasm, and her kidneys would shut down. Essentially, her body forgot how to work. He'd only seen it a few times before in River, and had developed this treatment in response. He never suspected Michael would be susceptible. It meant that this wasn't related to what the Alliance did with her brain. This was something every reader was at risk for – which probably explained why so few were alive.

Quickly, he secured the batch of medicine, so he could come back to his work when power was restored. The emergency back-up lights flickered. Michael's heart-rate quickened, and Simon closed his eyes. He hadn't finished prepping any of the doses. Praying fervently, he listened to the steady pulse of the monitor. Michael's heart-rate was higher than it should be, but not spiking out of control like before.

Simon nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but then the power surged and the monitor next to Michael sparked and smoked. Rushing over, he disconnected the machine and shoved it across the room, away from Michael. It rolled, hit the wall, and sparked again. Could he use a fire extinguisher on that thing without damaging it beyond repair? The question was moot, since all the fire extinguishers had been depleted earlier, putting out wall fires. He could clear out the sensitive equipment and set the overhead fire suppression.

Another machine sparked and Simon swerved desperately, seeking the source. He needed to get Michael out of there! Running to the wall, he hit the comm, but before he could call for help, Inara's voice came through.

"Simon, we need a Genny kit on the bridge. Minor burns."

Simon groaned fearfully for his little girl. Running to the hall, he hollered up the stairs for his son, praying the boy was still sleeping in the galley. Something else was sparking.

Grabbing the trash bin, Simon ripped out the lining and tossed the contents aside. Was there time –

Another light zapped.

Simon yanked open the cabinet and shoveled all the meds into the empty bin. He went quickly but methodically around the Infirmary, gathering anything that would be ruined by the chemical sprinklers, leaving the Genny-kit on the counter.

"Daddy, I'm here" Jamie called, waiting patiently by the door, flinching every time something sparked. Simon sighed a silent thank you and handed over the bin full of medical supplies.

"Take this, set it in the hall, tie it down to something," Simon ordered. Then he ran to Michael's side and started unstrapping all the harnesses holding the boy in place. Michael's eyes opened, half-focused, then closed again. His head lolled, and then he went through the sequence again. How could Simon lift the boy? Michael was so broken!

Wiping clammy palms on his pants, Simon turned desperately, and grabbed the Genny kit.

"Jamie!" Simon opened the kit, pulled out a needleless injector, and set the device with the drug his daughter needed.

"Do you remember how to use this?" he asked Jamie.

Jamie inhaled fearfully. "No."

Simon nodded. It was a long shot anyway. "Genny knows," he said gently. "She'll help."

"Daddy, why is this happening?" Jamie asked, his voice trembling.

Simon handed over the injector, then gave Jamie the rest of the blue kit just in case. He looked back to Michael.

"Ask me again later," Simon said, then pushed Jamie out of the room.

The monitor sparked again, igniting the blankets folded on the side bed and Simon cursed, noticing the portable oxygen tank left there from earlier. He looked from Michael to the spreading flame. If he didn't move the tank, the whole lower deck would be blown to smitherines! Gritting his teeth, Simon took off his vest and swung frantically, using it to beat a path through the flames. The tank was on wheels, and he shoved it desperately toward the door, groaning in frustration as it snagged on debris and he tripped over it.

The fire leapt onto Simon, burning through the right leg of his pants, and he screamed in pain. Rolling frantically, he tried to put out the flame, but there was no clear space around him and he rolled over broken glass. Biting his lip, he hefted the oxygen tank and shoved it out the door. His leg buckled as he tried to walk and his whole body started to shake. Gasping through the pain, he scooped Michael gently in his arms, ran to the hall, and set the boy on the couch. The fire spread to the trash left on the floor of the Infirmary. Simon sealed the door to cut off the airflow in the room and pressed the button to activate fire suppression.

Nothing happened.

Then the power died, and the entire lower deck went black, except for the bitter glow through the glass as his Infirmary was engulfed in flame.

-----

"Kaylee, get the vid operational," Mal ordered, strapping on his gun belt, accepting the radio Inara handed to him as he strode in the hall. Inara followed him down the stairs, detouring into their quarters just long enough to find her own gun and check the load. Little Jamie dashed past, blue kit in hand, and Mal swallowed any questions as to Simon's motives. He glanced behind where Genny was already on her feet, shaking like a leaf, helping her mother get the second console up and running. Cole looked on curiously from the galley, knowing well enough to stay out of everyone's way.

"Ghost ships again?" Sky goaded accusingly, climbing out of her bunk, holding Emily in one hand and an M4 in the other. She had metal strapped so many places, it was a wonder she could walk. Emily had a bright green, plastic toy gun, which Mal sharply disapproved of, on the principle that guns should not be construed as toys, especially in an environment where they were so accessible. Mal wasn't gonna tell Sky how to raise her own kid, though. Sky was zhen de shi scary, even without guns.

"Safety, baby," Sky chided sharply as Emily laid her head and the toy tiredly on Sky's shoulder. Emily turned the toy gun in her hand so the muzzle was pointed safely at the floor. She'd learned to treat anything gun-shaped like it was loaded.

"Jamie!" Sky hollered, glancing down the hall toward the galley.

"Gorram, I'm a twin, not a triplet!" Jamie hollered, and Sky looked in confusion toward the bridge. Jamie sprinted into the hall, gave an exasperated head-shake, took Emily, and ran back to the bridge. Sky looked to Mal.

"Someone's come knockin'," Mal acknowledged, surveying his resources, wishing like hell that Jayne and Zoë were here with them.

"Sky, take the back. Inara, you're my eyes up front. Cole, with me."

The order given, Mal started moving again. No one questioned him calling Cole to the front line, but he'd get an earful from Inara later, he was sure.

Cole hurried to keep up with him as he hustled to the hatch that opened topside. It was the best place to look out and get a sense of things, until Kaylee got that vid working. It was faster lifting Cole out than hauling himself through that hatch, and plus he'd wrenched his shoulder yanking Genny away from the fire.

"What's the job?" Cole asked, cradling his broken arm as he ran. Simon had strapped Cole's arm pretty firmly to his torso, so his hand rested over his heart and he couldn't do more than wiggle his fingers. Mal wondered if it was hurting him again, but the boy knew better than to complain at a time like this. He'd balance fine on Mal's shoulders with just the one arm.

"I need to borrow your eyes." On that thought, Mal detoured by the supply locker and grabbed some night-vision goggles.

"Can the rest of me come too?"

Mal looked at his son and they shared an adventurous smile. "Comedian, eh?"

"You said I couldn't be a Shepherd," Cole teased. "I'm weighing my options."

Mal kept walking, ignoring the pin-prickly sting of the burns and cuts on his back. He wondered if it was painful to look at and if that was why Cole was keeping pace instead of lagging a step behind. Mal didn't remember telling Cole that he couldn't be a shepherd, but it sounded like something he'd say offhand. However his boy turned out, Mal was first in line to take the blame. He hadn't seen anything he wasn't proud of yet. Good humor in the face of danger – definitely his father's son.

"If you come up with an act, your Mama and I'll take you on tour."

"Really?"

"No."

Cole laughed.

When they got to the hatch, Mal hesitated. He wasn't ready for this – wasn't ready to send his son into this. He leaned down until he was eye-level with Cole.

"This is just like a game," Mal explained. "Look fast. You find the danger - what is it and how close is it. Are you ready?"

Cole nodded, his confidence sourced entirely from Mal's confidence in him. Mal handed him the night-vision goggles and turned to open the hatch.

"Baba," Cole whispered, tapping Mal's shoulders with the goggles. Mal looked down, then froze when he heard a pounding on the hull overhead. How close was right here!

-----

Inara crossed the bridge, then went down the stairs in front of the con to the nose of the ship, and pressed her face against the window, trying to see out. She could see the tracking lights on at least two vehicles, parked just to port.

"You did it, Genny. You did it!" she heard Jamie exclaim and Inara looked up toward the bridge.

"We have vid!" Genny confirmed.

Then she heard Kaylee's horrified voice saying, "Oh my God."

Inara ran upstairs and pressed in between the others to see the screen. The first vehicle was just that – a transport. The second one was significantly larger and towed the energy weapon that had no doubt caused the power surge. She caught the movement of someone walking outside. How many?! No time to count.

Scrambling to find her radio, she broadcast urgently, "Mal, Sky, seal the ship!"

"Now you tell me!" Sky retorted, but Mal did not answer. She didn't expect him to.

"There's more coming!" Jamie cried, pointing to the monitor again. Four more vehicles, just veering away from town, were coming for Serenity. They had an hour at best.

"Kaylee, can we run?" Inara asked.

"Can't break atmo," Kaylee said, her voice calm despite the frantic movements of her fingers. "Probably can't even break the sound barrier."

"Just give me something," Inara said. "All we have to do is run faster than them."

"Looks like they just have ground vehicles, Mom," Genny volunteered helpfully.

Kaylee circled the bridge once more, then snatched up her scattered tools. "In the future, I'd appreciate written notice at least one week prior to gorram surprise attacks!"

"Just keep us from exploding," Inara called after her as Kaylee dashed toward the engine room.

Inara turned back to the mess of the bridge. The only working console was at the Captain's chair, and she always found it disorienting to drive from that side of the cockpit. Taking a deep breath, she sat in the chair, and started testing what systems were actually available for her to use.

"Okay, kids, strap in."

Jamie groaned wearily. "Again."

-----

The fire spread through the Infirmary, flames licking up every burnable surface, bursting suddenly as they spread to the cabinet storing the gauze and alcohol. He'd gotten the portable oxygen tank out, but he had no idea if Serenity was still circulating fresh air to the room, or if those systems had died along with the fire suppression. He considered moving again, but Michael was frail as it was and there was only darkness beyond what the fire illuminated.

The quiet coolness out here made him shiver and sweat, and the air filled with the stench of his own scorched flesh. He'd severely burned his leg and his vision was too blurry to find where Jamie had put the trash can full of supplies, let alone find the drugs he needed. He couldn't see, he couldn't call for help, and every moment, it became harder to breathe. Weariness weighed on his bones, and consciousness came and went as it pleased.

He heard shouts from upstairs, and then a tentative light cut through the hall, from the cargo bay. Squinting through the shadows, he tried to determine the nature of the intruder – he knew something was wrong because no one called his name. Simon's breath quickened, worried that he'd sent his son into danger, crossing the ship alone.

Adrenaline surged through his body as the intruder approached. Simon felt through the darkness for a weapon and sliced his hand on something sharp – a scrap of metal left behind from one of Kaylee's quick fixes to the lower deck. Adjusting the sharp edge between his fingers, Simon crouched in the flickering shadows, prepared to fight.

-----

Mal placed Cole behind him as they backed away from the hatch.

"A little help down here," Sky said over the radio. Mal tensed, knowing by the low hush in her voice that the cargo bay had been breached. He pulled the radio off his belt.

"Inara, there's a plan to fly, right?"

"Get out and push," she answered smartly.

"Five minutes, Cap," Kaylee cut in, her voice twittery, but calm.

Mal nodded, and turned, placing one hand on Cole's shoulder. He needed to send his son somewhere safe while he went to the cargo bay to back Sky. Suddenly, the hatch overhead crumbled and an intruder dropped though the ceiling. Mal pushed Cole behind the bulkhead, out of sight. The intruder was dressed like a laborer, with worn dusty clothes, and a support belt saying he meant to do heavy lifting. He was young, short, not more than 110 pounds soaking wet, and clearly not expecting Mal to charge him the way he did.

With a yelp, the intruder took off running, fast like an Olympian. The man slowed as he rounded the bend, fumbling for a weapon, and the distraction cost him. Mal just barely caught up in time to knock the weapon away, sending a wild energy discharge, punching a hole in the wall. Mal rolled quickly, bowling over his opponent. Gaining the upper hand, Mal swung back for a knock-out blow, but the intruder parried deftly, and twisted free using some kind of martial arts move. Mal landed hard on his back, and his vision went red with the protests of lashed skin. From the corner of his eye, he could see Cole charging toward them.

"Not with the goggles!" Mal cried out as Cole swung hard, knocking the guy cold.

"I know," Cole said breathlessly, holding up a wrench he'd found. "The goggles costs too gorram much."

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Mal chuckled approvingly and took the wrench from Cole. Cole was trembling with the rush of adrenaline, having never been in a fight with anyone other than Genny before. Gaining his feet quickly, Mal started toward the cargo bay, motioning Cole to follow, and pressed the radio to his lips.

"'Nara, we have an unsecured hole up top, so let's not break atmo."

"It was never an option, dear."

The endearment was her way of saying stay calm, keep your head clear, and kick some ass. Mal loved his wife.

"Cole, your gun is downstairs?" he asked.

Cole nodded, his eyes wide with the implications.

"You get it, and you go to the Infirmary."

"Baba –" Cole interrupted, then choked. His arm was broken and he couldn't shoot left-handed, but didn't want to say.

"Find Simon," Mal said calmly. "He'll take the gun. No matter what, you stay there and protect your brother."

Cole swallowed any protest, but his eyes were screaming fearfully, so Mal took his hand as they walked. He was still a boy. He wasn't ready for this.

When they got to the cargo bay it was completely black, aside from the faint glow from the hall they'd just emerged from. Mal pulled Cole sideways against the wall and pressed his finger to his lips, hoping no one had noticed their silhouettes. He wanted surprise on his side.

Mal could distinguish at least three voices, arguing over the lack of light in the room. They seemed disorganized; like the first, they weren't expecting company here. Still, the intruder on the upper deck had been armed with some Alliance-special energy weapon, so Mal wasn't taking any chances. Quietly, he scooted sideways, hoping the flashlights were still on the shelf and hadn't been displaced or commandeered in the day's series of crises. He found two and handed one to Cole.

"There's five of them," Cole whispered. Mal squinted into the darkness, then realized Cole was using the night-vision goggles. Mal tapped his shoulder and held out his hand. With a guiding hand on Cole's shoulder, he kept the boy behind him and they slowly made their way downstairs.

Using the goggles, Mal watched the movements of the enemy. Of five men, three had weapons, but none were drawn. One stood with his arms crossed, two others fiddled with some three-foot tall apparatus, while the two more dominated the argument. Mal noticed Sky, crouched near the grouping, her ear turned toward the intruders.

They got to the bottom of the stairs and Cole took off toward the Infirmary. For a moment, Sky turned sharply toward Mal, looking almost directly at him. She'd heard the shoes scuffling. That woman was truly impossible to sneak up on! He couldn't read her expression, but he figured she recognized him as friend, not foe, because she held up a hand and started moving. She stood slowly, stealthily inching toward the quiet man with his arms crossed. Then she jumped him and knocked him cold before he could make a sound.

Mal charged the next, and that one screamed, alerting the other three. Sky kicked the weapon out of the one's hand, and the other two dropped their defunct lantern to the floor, begging for mercy, not knowing what was going on. Flipping on his flashlight, Mal shone it directly in their eyes. The first held up his hands, crying out in surrender. His friend swatted him irritably, but held up his hands as well when he saw Sky training the M4 on him.

-----

Simon pulled the cuff of his sleeve over his hand, in part to staunch the blood, in part to get a better hold on the metal scrap he was using for a weapon. The intruder slowed as he rounded the bend, swearing at the sight of the smoldering Infirmary. Surely, he'd notice Michael lying on the couch. Surely he'd hear Simon gasping for breath, stumbling through the darkness.

"Doc?"

Simon cringed as he heard Cole's hushed whisper in the hall, accompanied by the slow bobbing glow of a new flashlight. Cole had noticed the strange flickering of light in the Infirmary and started running. With a string of curses, the intruder turned toward the sound, shining his beam directly at Cole and Cole froze like a deer in the headlights. Slowly, with quivering hands, the boy raised a gun and pointed it toward the light.

"Who are you?" Cole demanded, his voice trembling, his finger tightening on the trigger. In the flickering light from the Infirmary, Simon saw the man's hand close on a weapon tucked into his waistband, at the small of his back.

"Run, Cole!" Simon shouted, and the man swung both his light and weapon toward Simon. Simon launched out of his hiding place, swinging across his body, bringing the metal scrap in full force, connecting with the intruder's jugular.

The man fell to his knees, eyes wide with shock, then dropped face down on the ground. Cole closed his eyes, feet glued to the floor as blood spattered on his clothes and face and then pooled around his feet. Simon stood breathlessly over the body, dropping the scrap of metal, wondering if his knees might buckle, but there was so much adrenaline pumping through his system, he felt he was floating at the same time.

"Cole," Simon said softly, coming between the boy and the corpse, using his sleeve to wipe the blood away from Cole's face. He knew Cole had never seen anyone killed up close before, and a slashed throat was not the cleanest of deaths to witness.

Cole's face was ghostly white, even with the orange hue from the flames. He pushed Simon away, walked resolutely to the couch, and sat in the middle, near Michael's hip. Michael whimpered in pain – the sedative was wearing off. Cole looked at his brother, adjusted the brace on his arm, then stared fervently at the gun in his lap, shoulders slumped with weariness and resignation.

Simon limped toward the two boys, but the pain in his leg escalated to the point of overwhelming as the adrenaline rush faded. He felt the soft rock of the ship as Serenity took off, and nearly toppled over. Carefully, he laid himself on the floor, hoping the black spots would dissipate on their own, and he waited for help to arrive.

-----


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kaylee didn't believe in miracles. Not today. As soon as she'd given Inara the okay, the ship took off. The engine kicked and the blast back from a loose cover hit Kaylee hard in the stomach, and she knew she'd bruised her innards. Thankfully, that was the worst of it … until she went to the Infirmary for help.

Two fallen flashlights cast the room in eerie shadow and that's where she found them– Simon lying on the floor, next to a corpsified intruder and a pool of blood. Michael lay on the couch, groaning in pain, and Cole stared vacantly at the burnt out shell of the Infirmary, his finger trembling over the trigger of a gun.

"Simon," Kaylee breathed, sliding on the blood and falling to her knees next to him. His skin was slick with sweat and he trembled violently. Grabbing the nearest flashlight, Kaylee checked him over for a gunshot wound, but the blood was not his. She nearly wept with relief, but for the charred and blistering skin on his leg. She could smell it. It filled the whole room.

"What do I do?" she asked him, cradling his chin.

"Water," he said weakly. "Cool the skin."

"The chem-ice –"

"Too cold," he choked.

"Cole, go wet a towel for me," Kaylee said urgently.

Cole didn't move. She was on her own. Swallowing her panic, Kaylee went over to Cole and knelt so they were face to face. She placed her hand over his to take the gun, but his hand tightened around the weapon.

"Cole, I'm going to take the gun, okay?"

She waited. Cole's hand trembled under hers.

"Okay," he mouthed, nodding slightly, though his eyes never found focus. He released the gun and Kaylee tucked it into her tool belt.

"You're not on duty any more," she told him gently. "I'm taking over, okay?"

Cole blinked and cocked his head; he'd gone completely catatonic.

-----

By the time they landed, Mal and Sky had tied up the five captives in the cargo bay, and dragged the other one from the hall upstairs as well. Thinking that was it, he'd gone completely ashen when he found the scene outside the Infirmary. Simon was white-faced and propped against a wall, instructing Kaylee through treatments. Cole was still as a statue, sitting on the couch next to his moaning brother. Mal swallowed the bile rising in his throat and returned to the cargo bay to deal with the problem of the captives.

Sky had fanned the captives around the room, placing tripwires and explosives between them, so they'd lose a limb if they tried to do more than talk to each other. Inara was at the top of the stairs, rifle in hand, walking slowly, threateningly around the perimeter, covering Sky should any of them break free. Mal didn't dare tell her about the scene outside the Infirmary. She'd kill them all. Mal's own fist closed over his weapon, wanting to kick and pummel each of these men individually before shooting them all between the eyes for what they'd done. Given the day he'd had, he wasn't feeling particularly merciful.

"This was supposed to be the whore's ship," one of the men spat. He had a long scar across his nose and around his eye socket. The complaint was directed toward the apparent leader – a clean-cut kid with a collared shirt.

"This is my ship," Mal said, then looked at Inara, repeating emphatically. "MY ship."

Inara smiled with sinister grace, coming down the stairs like a tigress on the hunt. "Community property, dear. What's yours is mine."

Mal made a face and turned to the kid in the collared shirt, kicking his ribs to get his attention. "Is this how you greet new folk?"

"Not much of a greeting," Inara commented icily. "No wonder the Guild doesn't service this world."

"We just came for the ship." That was one of the lantern techs who hadn't been armed. His voice was high-pitched and panicked, but Mal hated him anyway.

"That's not what your method says," Mal pointed out. "You knew she was on board. You tried to kill my wife. I take offense to that – I take GREAT offense to that." He looked quickly to Inara. "Do you take offense to that?"

Inara leered ominously, trailing her fingers across his neck as she circled the collection of prisoners. She was livid, and power-crazed. "I'm not so easily offended. But you tell him, dear."

Sky held the bigger gun, but Inara looked evil enough to kill with a glance. She wouldn't hold him back. He wouldn't hold her back either.

"Not kill," the leader protested anxiously. "Stun. S-sell. Just her and the kid, that was it."

"Sell the kid?!" Mal repeated, flabbergasted. "MY kid!"

"I say we kill them," Sky said simply, and all their prisoners tensed in fear.

"This ain't up for a vote," Mal said. "I'm in charge here, and I say we kill them."

He aimed his gun, cocked the hammer, and cursed the wretched day. Then Inara placed a hand on his elbow.

"Wait," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "I have a better idea."

-----

Little Zoë closed her eyes as she walked, depending on Jayne to guide her. He wasn't sure how much help he was, because the chill had sunk into his bones as well. Jayne's head ached from hunger, thirst, smoke inhalation, and hypothermia, and the rest of his body throbbed and ached in protest of the day. Zoë was leaning pretty heavily against the bruises he'd gotten earlier when he'd carried the seizing River to the Infirmary. He wondered if they hurt more because of the biting chill in the wind. His throat was too sore to complain.

They crossed the ridge to the plateau where they'd left Serenity and Jayne froze. They were still a mile off, but he didn't see the ship. He saw a few abandoned vehicles and a large scorch mark on the ground.

Zoë's eyes shot open, nearly stumbling out of his arms when he stopped. Her arms fell by her side as she saw it too. Maybe it was a hallucination caused by smoke poisoning.

"No!" she cried, running toward the giant hole in the ground, but he grabbed her shoulders and covered her mouth. There could still be danger here. They fell to the ground, and she cried against his chest, pounding in frustration, overwhelmed with hunger and weariness.

"No sense panicking yet," Jayne said, though he was a hairsbreadth himself from crossing the line. If she was as bad off as him, it was hard to think straight. "Give me the radio."

Zoë writhed and wept. "They would've contacted us –"

"We had it off, remember. Stealth," he said, gently, then reached across her for her satchel. They should've checked in hours ago. Sky was gonna kill him for making her worry like that.

"Serenity can you hear me?"

Zoë stilled her sobs, wiping the tears from her cheeks, chastising her own foolishness. Jayne kept her in a forgiving embrace, and they waited. Jayne called again.

"Jayne!" Mal exclaimed, then followed immediately with a mixture of swears and prayers. "It's about time. Are you safe? Where are you?"

"Right where we left you. Where are you?"

"Ai ya! Move!" he ordered urgently. "Get out of the area."

Jayne looked around at the quiet scene. He'd been planning to steal one of those vehicles. The world was grainy and unclear.

"Is Zoë alright?" Mal asked.

"Aside from a minor panic attack seeing the scorch mark you left," Jayne teased, patting Zoë lightly.

"Baba, there is going to be a major peanut butter tax on this!" Zoë warned, grabbing the radio. Peanut butter was a luxury on Serenity, but Zoë had grown addicted to it when she'd stayed planet-side and in hospital for extended periods. Zoë tugged at her hair and paced in a circle, then buried her face in Jayne's chest. "I am having serious abandonment issues."

Mal chuckled sweetly, relieved by the sound of her voice. "I have a hug waiting for you, Zo."

"You got a hug for me?" Jayne teased.

"I have your first born. I'll send Sky with the shuttle."

-----

There wasn't much going right on Serenity, but Mal counted his blessings, and took what he could get. First, Little Zoë and Jayne were alive and whole, albeit smoked and chilled. Second, Kaylee had fixed the shuttles while she'd been waiting for Genny and the computer to come together, so he didn't have to worry about bringing Zoë and Jayne home. Third, Serenity's prisoners happened to have connections in various shops around town, so instead of Serenity being chopped to bits and sold in those shops, Inara had convinced their prisoners to supply the parts needed to repair Serenity. The leader had nearly lost an ear to the negotiation, but the desperate please of his friends overruled him. It had taken both Mal and Inara to hold Sky back, once she had the knife poised.

Mal was looking forward to telling Simon he could have all new machines in the Infirmary, because Simon had been harping him about upgrading for years. He worried for Simon, and not just because they were in dire need of a medic these days. Mal had seen burns like that before, and knew if he didn't get Simon to a proper hospital with burn unit, he would lose his whole leg. Mal worried for Cole, too. For Cole, he bit back his anger toward God, and he prayed.

Mal paced the catwalk outside the shuttle dock, keeping an eye on the prisoners, but mostly just waiting. Simon had suggested he get Zoë and Jayne fed and warmed before bringing them to the hellish den where the others waited. It was a good idea. Zoë had been making light, but if Jayne was right, and she'd panicked on seeing Serenity gone, then she was too emotionally frail to step right into the thick of Serenity's damage.

The couplings clicked as the shuttle locked into place, and the airlock hissed as pressures equalized. It was the sound of things working right. A few minutes later, the door to the shuttle opened and Little Zoë came out with a heavy blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a wool hat on her head. Mal embraced her, relief coursing through his veins, the weight of worry lifting from his shoulders. She didn't hug him back, probably so as not to lose hold on the blanket, but her body molded gently against his, as if she were about to fall asleep in the safety of his arms.

"Ain't you supposed to have escorts?" Mal asked, not releasing her. The shuttle door had closed behind her, with Jayne and Sky still inside.

"They …" Zoë hesitated and looked toward the closed door. "They missed each other."

Mal rolled his eyes and pounded on the door. "Twenty minutes, you two," he hollered, then turned to Zoë. "Let's get you fed."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her to the galley. She moved slowly, constantly glancing over her shoulder to the shuttle.

"I don't think Uncle Jayne can sit up," she said softly, her voice laced with worry. Mal hadn't realized it was so bad, but he couldn't exactly send a medic in.

"Sky's with him," he assured.

"Sky said Uncle Simon …" Zoë's face twisted in fear. "Baba, is he…"

"Singed a bit, but he'll be fine," Mal finished. They turned the corner into the galley and Zoë stopped at the door. She'd been expecting to see the others in here.

"Sit," Mal ordered. He went to the stove and ladled out a bowl of soup that he'd prepared earlier. He'd sent some of the warm broth with Sky for Zoë and Jayne to drink on the return trip, but here were all the lentils and weird little vegetables that made it tasty.

Zoë hadn't moved from the door. "I want to see Michael –"

"In time," Mal interrupted. "Eat. Warm up. I need you whole."

Mal set the bowl on the table and a spoon next to it and motioned toward the chair again. Zoë stood militantly by the door, suddenly looking at him like he was an imposter.

"Baba, you're bleeding!"

Mal shifted the sit of his shirt and winced. The shirt he'd been wearing when the console exploded was a tattered mess, and he'd changed out of it, but most of the cuts were still open.

"I'll keep," Mal insisted. He took Zoë firmly by the arm and led her to the table. She sank heavily into the chair and cried into her bowl of soup.

"Please, you're scaring me. Baba… what's happened here?"

She was too frail, and he was too tired. He reached out his hand and she took it, holding on like they were the last living souls in the 'verse.

"I got sprayed a bit when a console exploded," Mal explained. "It's just some surface cuts I haven't had chance to tend to yet."

Zoë swallowed a concerned sob, then looked around the room like hell's bats were circling.

"You'll be pleased to know your Mama survived the day relatively whole," Mal continued. "Jamie is fit as a fiddle. Emily doesn't have a scratch on her."

That was it. That was all that was whole anymore.

"Cole is the same as when you left – a broken arm." Mal didn't mention the PTSD, but anyone on this crew with any sense was not more than a few heartbeats from that right now. He needed a segue to get Zoë off the inventory of injury. "Michael is the same as when you left. He had some words from River when he woke up this afternoon."

"What did he say?" Zoë asked immediately, taking the switch. He sobs stilled and she picked up the spoon, and started eating slowly.

"He said we have 10 hours," Mal answered. "I don't know to what. I think we have about three left to figure it out."

Zoë did the math quickly. "So that was seven hours ago?"

Mal nodded. Damn, this had been a long day.

"So we know Michael could still read River seven hours ago," Zoë reaffirmed, nodding thoughtfully. "That's good news."

"Wasn't reading so much as channeling," Mal explained. "Like River was talking directly to me. And she couldn't hear me."

"Ch –" Zoë gasped in alarm and dropped her spoon, sending the soup splashing. "She didn't!"

Mal sat up, immediately alert. "This is a bad thing. They've done it before?"

Zoë covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wild, her mind racing, like she was trying to convince herself that things weren't as bad as they sounded. "We tried for years to get them to –"

"Excuse me?!" Mal interrupted, his protective instincts for his son flaring up.

Zoë didn't flinch. She picked up a napkin and cleaned the mess of soup off the table, deliberately avoiding his eye.

"Remember when we were little and Aunt River would be in the middle of a story, but you told us it was bedtime." She waited a moment, then finally met his eye, her lips pressed together in contrite confession. "We never conceded as easily as you thought. River and Michael would just keep reading off each other. The channeling idea – well, Michael wasn't as good a story teller."

She cringed, anticipating his harsh response, and she was right to expect it. Mal was furious.

"So you tried psychic experiments on your little brother," he growled. Then he pounded the table and jumped to his feet, pacing a circle, and hitting the wall just to keep from hitting her. "Zoë, you of all people!"

"We stopped," Zoë said defensively, but stayed meekly seated. She didn't care if he hit her, because in this case, she thought she deserved in. Her face fell and she looked sadly at her hands, repeating, "We stopped. They got really close once, then both of them just freaked out. You probably remember the night. I couldn't calm Michael down, so I took him to your room, and you said he was too old to sleep in your bed."

Mal remembered clearly. Zoë had come in all guilt and tears, practically holding Michael up because he was trembling so badly and his knees kept buckling. He'd whispered, 'Mama, Mama,' but Mal wouldn't let Inara go to him at first, because he thought it was just a nightmare and he wanted Michael to work it out on his own. He'd relented on the tough parenting when he'd heard River in the hall, screaming, and Simon's footsteps as he went to fetch her. Mal remembered Michael crying out when he touched him, like he'd been burned; he remembered Zoë sitting by the bed, hugging her knees, sobbing; and he remembered waking up the next morning and finding that neither Inara nor Michael had fallen asleep yet. They were just sitting, Inara leaned against the headboard praying, Michael curled in her lap, whispering over and over, 'Mama.' He'd never suspected anyone was to blame.

The intensity of that night was ten times greater than what Mal had witnessed this afternoon in the Infirmary, but if that was Zoë's experience with channeling, no wonder she seemed so concerned.

"There world is so different from ours," Zoë murmured distantly.

Mal's jaw tensed and he glared at her across the table. "I can't believe you watched this happen. You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

Zoë didn't mount a defense. She'd berated herself enough over the years and come to terms with her actions. She was focused on the present.

"Aunt River must really be desperate, to try it again."

Mal fumed. He was on a short fuse, and glad little Zoë wasn't taking it personally. Michael seemed okay after he'd talked for River. It wasn't like last time. In fact, it may be useful.

"Does the door swing both ways?" he asked. "Can he control her?"

"Don't ask him, Baba. Don't you dare," Zoë threatened, her eyes narrowing dangerously, looking at him like she'd kill him just for thinking the thought. There was something powerful behind the threat. Something he'd never seen in her before. Follow-through. Mal's jaw dropped in horror at the realization – she'd killed someone out there today!

-----

Jayne tilted his head up just enough to take another sip of the warm broth. His fingers were cold, his nose was cold, hell, even his eyelids were cold. His stomach growled eagerly for more broth, but his head felt like a lead weight, and he had to give himself a minute of shivering under the blanket before he tried again. He was half-asleep, but it wasn't the pleasant kind of recovery sleep. It was the mellow calm that came just before one froze to death.

Coughing up soup, mucus, and black soot, Jayne rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, his frozen joints screaming in protest. Sky knelt by his face and wiped it clean. Then she leaned forward and kissed his frozen eyelids.

Jayne smiled dumbly and gazed at her as she pulled a hat over his head and placed a warm pillow underneath. She wore a pink camisole over gray armor, and his favorite brown jacket on top. Carefully, she removed the jacket and covered Jayne, and he could feel her warmth on the fabric. Her whole right side, forehead to fingertip, was bruised and her right eye nearly swollen shut, but Jayne could still see love in the way she looked at him. Sky snuggled under the blankets and jacket, spooning her warm body around his. For all the bruising, Jayne knew that she couldn't be comfortable, but she found a position and stayed still, and they laid in silence until Jayne stopped shivering.

"Zoë made a kill," Sky whispered, her breath tickling the back of his neck.

Jayne grunted an affirmation, too tired to put words together. He'd expected Sky to notice, but neither he nor Zoë had mentioned it in the last three hours of walking, and Jayne didn't want to talk about it. Sky did. She lifted onto her elbows, taking her warmth, and pressed his shoulder until he was lying on his back, looking up at her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. It wasn't a question about his physical health.

Jayne shrugged, looking sideways at the wall. "She did it so cold. Weren't life or death. Weren't anything. She was mad at me and she did it to prove a point."

Jayne brooded, and Sky laid down again, resting her face on his chest. She heard the guilt, and she wasn't going to tell him who was to blame. This was the 'verse they lived in, and everyone had to make a first kill at some point.

"I'll talk to her," Sky said.

"She's got her parents." Mal always had wise words, and he'd cold killed a dozen men since Jayne knew him.

Sky tapped her fingers on Jayne's chest reflectively. "Neither one made a first kill like you're describing."

Jayne looked at her in surprise, but all he could see was the top of her head. She knew – they both did – that this wasn't about kills, it was about first kills. Jayne realized he didn't know anything about Sky's first kill, and she didn't know his. Those weren't the type of tales one repeated proudly. So he hugged her tight and they rested together silently.

"Think we should go?" Sky asked, just as Jayne was nodding off.

"Captain said 20 minutes."

"It's been 20 minutes."

Jayne groaned wearily, knowing if he didn't move soon, he'd be down for the night. "That was your 20. Now starts my 20."

Sky smirked, and Jayne's eyes twinkled. He was at least warm enough now to be properly hungry.

-----


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Inara sat next to Cole on the couch just outside the burnt out Infirmary, eyes closed in fervent prayer. She had one arm around her son's shoulders as she prayed, and she leaned her chin close to his head. His body was cold and still, his eyes staring vacantly forward. He didn't lean into her, didn't pray with her, didn't respond. When she reached the end of her prayer, she kissed the top of his head, and started again from the beginning.

The incense she'd brought didn't cover the smell of ashes, burnt flesh, and spilled blood. They'd barely done more than throw a towel over the mess, but Inara couldn't leave Cole sitting there another minute. If it were a job gone wrong, she could've blamed herself, but this was nothing they'd brought on themselves. It would've been just as dangerous sitting planet-side in a cozy cottage or elegant mansion.

Cole's left hand twitched in his lap, and Inara reached over to take it. He didn't react, so she just held on, dropping her prayer to the volume of a whisper only he could hear. Inara had special prayers for all her children, and they each knew their own by heart.

It started as the prayer her mother had prayed over her when she was a child, but Inara had tweaked it over the years, creating a unique prayer for each of her kids, because each had unique needs for blessings. For Zoë, she prayed for connection and a sense of family. Little Zoë too often isolated herself, forgetting that family was more than blood. For Cole, she prayed for protection. He took too much after his father, being adventurous and daring. He had more broken bones to his credit than all the other kids on Serenity combined – except now with Michael … For her youngest, Michael, she prayed for peace, quiet, and rest in his mind. It's what he always needed.

Michael had been groaning earlier, but they didn't have any sedatives. She'd touched his face and said his prayer until he'd fallen asleep, then returned to Cole. She wanted to get her boys out of this dungeon, but Cole was too big to carry these days, and with the stretcher melted to the deck plates in the Infirmary, it wasn't safe to move Michael again.

Mal came downstairs with Zoë, him holding a cup of broth, her holding a blanket over her shoulders. It had been a strategic move because as soon as Zoë reached the bottom of the stairs, her grip went slack and the blanket dropped to the floor. She recovered quickly. Too quickly. Inara could see the pain on her face, sourced deeper than the sight that had just greeted her.

"Zoë, come here," Inara beckoned. She would pray over her daughter and this new burden. It was all she knew to do.

Zoë's glance flickered in her direction, but she firmly ignored Inara, squared her shoulders, and looked at Simon.

"Uncle Simon –"

"Zoë," Inara repeated, her voice gentle, but firm. "Come."

Mal took Zoë's shoulder, but Zoë knew she had no choice in the matter anymore. Quietly she came over, and because there was no space on the couch, she knelt on the floor. Mal put the blanket over Zoë's shoulder again, then stepped back. Inara continued to pray.

-----

Jayne walked gingerly through the hall holding Sky's hand because her shoulder was too bruised for him to lean on. He wasn't playing up his limp, but he wasn't trying to hide it either. He'd zipped up his jacket, added gloves to match the hat, and made a note for the next time he was on Kerry that the day and night temperatures varied significantly. Twenty minutes was hardly a decent rest, but at least his teeth had stopped chattering. Sky stopped in the galley to make coffee and get some sort of lunch for Emily. She told Jayne to wait with her, but he went ahead to see the others. There were thirteen people living on this boat plus six live prisoners and a corpse, but it was quiet as a ghost ship – like they were all dead.

Coming down the stairs, he could smell the mixture of blood and burnt flesh, poorly masked by perfumed incense. Combining that with the harsh glare of the temporary lighting made it feel like a descent into hell. There were better places for the crew to gather, but Sky had said that moving the wounded would be difficult. He rounded the bend to the lounge and Jayne understood why.

"Wo de tian, a," he murmured, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself. Sky had been pampering him like he was the victim, but he realized that he and Zoë were the lucky ones in this.

His eyes were immediately drawn to his little girl, wide awake, with a content little look on her face as she walked around a blanket that had been set as her safe boundary. She had three dolls laid flat on the blanket and a stethoscope around her neck, and she played doctor, probably thinking that all the others lying on the ground were playing with her. Kaylee leaned against the wall, half on the blanket, keeping an eye on Emily. His daughter was safe, and Jayne was relieved, but only somewhat.

The Infirmary was completely black and sealed off. Simon lay on the floor, covered with both blankets and cool compresses, his face white like death. Genny was snuggled against his shoulder, the skin on her face red and peeling, one hand bandaged and curled against her chest. Jamie cuddled against Simon's other shoulder, sleeping but whole. Simon's shirt was splattered with dried blood, but he had his arms around the children, and though his eyes were closed, he wasn't sleeping.

Zoë knelt next to Inara, while Inara said prayers over her and Cole. The vacant look in Cole's eyes was the most heart-breaking of all. Jayne knew Inara would keep saying that prayer until Cole either said it with her or closed his eyes and fell asleep. But the boy was too traumatized even to blink.

Mal stood facing the wall, head buried in the crook of his elbow, praying too. He'd started doing that again – praying – about ten years ago, when little Zoë first got cancer. He didn't do it often, and he never shared it with the kids the way Inara did. Jayne could see spots of blood on Mal's shirt, and the cuts ran up the back of his neck, into his hair. Most of it was dried, but as he stood there, Jayne could see some of the spots getting bigger. With Simon lying flat, no one was forcing Mal to tend to the open wounds. Jayne would –

"Papa!" Emily cried delightedly, her little voice like a joyful song over the room. Kaylee tried to catch her before she ran off the blanket, but doubled over in pain before she made it to her knees. Emily knew this drill, though, and waited eagerly at the edge of the blanket, arms outstretched.

"I got her," Jayne told Kaylee. "Sit back."

Jayne scooped up his girl, and was rewarded with a tender kiss on the cheek. All his injuries faded for the joy of holding her again.

Kaylee fell back heavily against the wall, and her head lolled toward her family. Jayne looked at her in concern, but she waved him off.

"I'm just bruised," Kaylee assured.

"You're sure?"

"Doctor said." She reached over Jamie and took Simon's hand.

"Doctor said sit still," Simon chastised firmly, peeking one eye open, then winking at her. With a nod, he beckoned Jayne closer, eyeing him critically, then freed one of his arms, touching Jayne's face as he examined.

"I didn't realize the smoke inhalation would be so bad," Simon said, using his cold, business-like doctor's voice. "Use the oxygen. Start with two minutes."

"I'm fine," Jayne dismissed.

Simon's face screwed like he was about to strangle someone, but he couldn't because his kids were laying on him. "Do not make me angry," he warned. "I killed once today. I'll do it again."

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Jayne carped. Simon was bad at killing people, and he never handled it well. Jayne didn't take it personally. Mal helped Jayne set up the oxygen tank, and for the first time, Jayne noticed the smattering of medical supplies littering the hallway. Jayne let Zoë use the oxygen first, once she'd been released from Inara's prayer vigil. Zoë would've brushed off treatment too, except her next goal was talking to Simon, and the Doc had that look in his eyes.

Jayne motioned Mal away from the others, then twirled his finger, indicating he was going to bandage the holes on Mal's back. He didn't see any antiseptics or gauze lying about, so he went to the nearest dorm, pulled off a bed sheet, and then got a bucket of water from the sink.

"There's time for this later," Mal said quietly, as Jayne set the materials in place.

Jayne gave Mal a stern look. "Don't make Simon kill you."

Mal resigned more quickly than Jayne thought he would, and he carefully removed his shirt, wincing as the fabric pulled loose some of the scabs. Jayne handed over Emily who pressed her stethoscope over Mal's chest and cupped a hand over her ear as she listened.

"Am I dead?" Mal asked her.

Emily nodded chidingly. "I told you a million times. Safety, baby."

Jayne chuckled and pulled out his knife to cut the commandeered bed sheet into strips. Dampening the first, he cleaned away the dried, smeared blood on Mal's back. Mal gritted his teeth and closed off almost immediately, before falling on captaining.

"Report?" Mal ordered.

"To what end," Jayne complained wearily. Some of Mal's cuts were deep and probably needed stitches. Jayne thought about finding some super glue. "Look at us, Mal. We're barely walking. None of us have slept. Do you really think we can mount a rescue?"

"We have three hours left to try. Tell me what you found."

Jayne wondered where they deadline came from, but figured someone had told him and he'd forgotten. He worked dispassionately over the wounds, and Mal covered every wince with a smile for Emily's benefit. Within ten minutes, Jayne had described the shack in the woods, the endless supply of guards, and how River up and killed the first one without any provocation.

"Could be whoever has River isn't affiliated with the people in the shed," Mal said.

"If so, then who has River? Zoë said she knew the group guarding the shed."

Jayne reached into his pocket and pulled out the insignia he'd ripped off the guard's uniform. Mal took the patch, and swore under his breath.

"This was on the ship that shot us down," he breathed.

"The ghost ship?" Sky asked, coming down the stairs with a canteen of coffee and a crateful of supplies.

Mal made a face. "It was just a notion."

"It was a stupid notion," Sky countered, taking Emily from Mal, and setting the girl back on the blanket with a plate of food.

Jayne didn't know what Mal and Sky were bickering about, but didn't care. They were all exhausted, frayed, irritable, and armed.

"There were at least five foot soldiers that chased us," Jayne said. "Makes me wonder what happened to River when she stepped in that shed."

He thought a little, then he added, "Not enough that I'd go back and see, though."

-----

Simon and Zoë talked too quickly for Mal to properly eavesdrop on their conversation, but they had figured something out. He'd finally gotten the signal from them to round up the crew for meeting, when he heard the soft little sigh across the room. Turning toward the sound, he saw Cole lean his head on Inara's shoulder and squeeze her hand. Inara closed her eyes and grateful tears spilled down her cheeks, splashing on Cole's hair. Mal's chest ached with grief. It was time to end this.

"Zoë, Simon," he said, his voice ordering the report. The others gathered round, injured though they were. Simon carefully extracted himself from his children and tried to sit up, but in the end he was too pained, Kaylee sat behind him, and he leaned against her. Zoë stood to address the group, and faltered. She'd never had all eyes on her.

Mal got up and stood next to her. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he leaned close and whispered, "You look like you got this under control. I'm kinda tired; I'm gonna go take a nap."

She laughed and grabbed his elbow pulling him back into the circle. It was all she needed.

"It's fair to say I know my way around a hospital," Zoë began, and a few light-hearted chuckles arose from the group. Zoë had been in and out of the hospital since she was five. When Cole was born, she had disappeared into the hospital for three days until Mal found her hiding in the ceiling.

"In my time, there are two wards I learned to avoid – the psychiatric ward, and this one." She held up the insignia that Jayne had ripped off the guard's uniform.

"What is it?" Mal asked.

"I'm not sure it has a name."

"The Ward started cropping up in hospitals maybe ten – fifteen years ago," Simon chimed in. "It's most closely linked to the diagnostic ward. In fact, aside from the sign on the door and the tangible presence of demons, there's no discernable difference to the patient."

"But there is a difference," Zoë continued. "When the Ward cures a patient, they don't tell him he's cured and they don't send him home. They use him like …"

She trailed off, looking to Simon for help.

"Test subjects. Incubators. Tissue farms. There's no way to know the extent."

"So they're like the Academy?" Inara asked.

"Very similar," Simon agreed. "Only instead of preying on students, they prey on patients."

Sky held up a finger, requesting the floor. "You're saying there are Wards on dozens of worlds harboring legions of readers?"

"No, readers are rare," Zoë said quickly. "Even in the Academy, Aunt River was unique among the other victims because of her ability. I think whoever has her has been using the Ward to find readers."

"Only now they seem to have found another way," Mal finished gravely.

"River was sedated," Simon pointed out. "She didn't run out of her on her own. If someone has figured a way to summon her mentally and control her physically, they mean to use her as a weapon."

Jayne's brow furrowed and his lips twisted in thought. "Something ain't adding up. If the Ward is doing all this to her, why would she walk up to the door and kill the guard?"

"I don't know," Zoë said.

"If someone is summoning readers, why is Michael still here?" Sky asked.

No one had an answer.

"Why don't we ask him?" Inara suggested.

-----

Michael lay on the couch, pale and fevered, and the others hovered nearby as Mal knelt by his face. Cole hadn't moved, and no one was going to make him, least of all Inara, who still sat beside him with an arm around his shoulders. Inara leaned out of the embrace just enough to see Michael's face. Michael whimpered at the movement that created in the couch cushions.

"Michael," Mal called. "Son, wake up."

Michael groaned tiredly. "Mama, don't stop."

"That's Baba talking, sweetie," Inara said. "Open your eyes and see. He's not as pretty."

Michael's head lolled slightly, but was restrained by the neck brace.

"My song now, Mama?" Michael always referred to Inara's prayer as his song.

Mal cradled Michael's face and Michael blinked at him, confused. He tried to lift his head, but Mal caressed his cheek to coax him back down.

"Do you remember what happened this morning?" Mal asked him.

Michael examined his face quizzically and his lips moved soundlessly, like he didn't understand what he was seeing or why.

Inara reached out and touched Michael's hand. "It's okay, sweetie."

Michael's eyes roved the room, searching for Inara. He twisted, writhed, and pressed his eyes shut, mouthing the words to his prayer.

Mal turned, angry. "'Nara, say the damn prayer!"

Inara's face clouded in confusion and grief, but she started a prayer for peace.

"Don't have to be out loud," Zoë told her. "He's not listening with his ears."

Mal looked from Zoë to Simon. "Could the hearing aid be damaged?"

"Very probably," Simon answered.

Michael had never needed the hearing aid to understand Inara. It's what made him so difficult to diagnose in the early years. Inara whispered the words, arm around Cole, hand ghosting over Michael, and Mal watched as Michael mouthed the words with her. He was jealous of that bond – especially now when he needed to talk.

When Michael finally calmed, Zoë tapped his shoulder and signed something with her hands. Michael shook his head. Mal only knew a little sign, and he'd forgotten most of it since Michael started talking. He didn't know those two still used it.

"Do you remember what happened this morning, when you fell?" Zoë spoke as she signed.

"I didn't fall," Michael said. "Aunt River pushed me down. We had to hide. She covered me so I wouldn't be seen. He took her."

"She spoke through you," Mal said urgently. "Do you remember? Zoë ask him."

Zoë signed the question.

"She came from nowhere," Michael answered cryptically. "Reading isn't safe."

"Can you read her now?" Zoë asked.

Michael's jaw quivered and his eyes widened in fear. "If I go, he'll find me – the Frankenstein man. I have to be careful."

Mal stroked Michael's cheek with his thumb, imparting comfort with his touch because his voice couldn't reach.

"Do you know what happens in three hours?" Mal asked and Zoë translated.

Michael shook his head. "Ask River."

His eyelids flickered and Mal tensed. He slapped Michael's cheek.

"Son, what are you doing?"

"I'll get her."

"No!" Zoë cried. "Michael –"

"Shh, Mama," he hissed.

Mal watched helplessly as his son faded away. He turned to Simon.

"Does River know sign?"

Simon shook his head. "I don't think so."

"She'll hear Mama 'Nara," Zoë said worriedly. "I think. It's still Michael's mind, no matter who's in it."

Michael's eyes shot open again and he screamed so loud the other kids woke up. Mal clamped a hand over his mouth.

"River?" Inara called.

Michael - River - stopped screaming, and panted frantically. "Why aren't you here? Why haven't you come?"

"It's been a busy day," Inara said calmly. "We need more information."

"Pulled 'til we snap," River moaned. "Biggest piece wins."

"Shh," Inara soothed. "What happens in three hours?"

"You have to stop me!"

"Stop you from doing what?"

"Stealing the ship! Stealing them all! All the … whatever we are." River's tears streamed down Michael's cheeks. Helpless to do anything else, Mal wiped them away.

"Don't be late for dinner," River said urgently. "Stuffing in the turkey. Pick out the cranberries, feed the rest to the dog."

Inara looked at Mal, but he didn't understand either. Simon hmm'd, and Mal figured he was getting something.

"Is anyone else gettin' hungry?" Jayne asked and Sky swatted him.

"He swallows. We become him." River trailed off and her eyes went dead. "I don't want to kill you."

"Where is the ship?" Inara asked.

"I can talk to you," River said in an eerie whisper. "I can talk to you and he doesn't know."

"That's great River. Tell me something useful," Inara said firmly. "Where is the ship?"

"On the second moon, waiting."

"The one you're going to steal?" Inara clarified.

"Always leave your shoes by the door," River said, then her eyes flickered sideways. "Michael." She looked back at Mal. "I can't hear through his screaming."

Mal panicked urgently, and cradled his son's face. "Michael. Come back."

River screamed, and then, just like before, the scream went silent. Mal had called Michael back, but this time he trembled violently. Then his eyes rolled up into his head and he started seizing.

"Zao gao!" Simon swore, trying to move, but unable. "Someone get me that trash can! And light! I need light! Something to use as a table. Mal, keep him breathing."

Mal's heart pounded in fear as Michael seized. Then his body fell limp as death. Could he risk chest compressions? Michael's sternum was broken from the morning! Mal pressed his ear to Michael's chest and thankfully heard a weak beat.

"Doc!"

Simon worked swiftly, then handed Inara a syringe.

"The neck. It goes in –" he motioned with his hand. "Just like before."

Inara injected the needle, and Michael's whole body bowed. Then he just lay there, breathing.

-----

It took ten minutes for Mal's heart to stop pounding. The only one in the room not quaking from the experience was Cole, who was still sitting in the same spot, staring at his hands, working out the trauma from just before this one. Simon was alternately sitting forward to prepare more doses of the medicine, and leaning white-faced against Kaylee trying to keep from passing out. They had the facts; they needed a plan.

Jayne spoke first. "So we're supposed to run out to the middle of the woods, guns blazing, and hope that that's the place where a government-trained assassin is kidnapping a bunch of readers and stealing a ship and we want to stop them before they take off and rendezvous with that other ship knocked us out of the sky with barely a blink."

"Possessed," Mal corrected. "River is a possessed, government-trained assassin. And yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

"Hmph," Jayne grunted, crossing his arms and looking adventurously at Sky. "Told you that cannon was a good investment."

Jayne was referring to his 20mm Vulcan Rifle that stood taller than he did. The thing only had three rounds and was outlawed on no less than fifteen worlds.

"Only if you're planning to kill River."

"If it comes to that," Jayne challenged. Simon swallowed a protest. Zoë did not.

"No!" Zoë said firmly. "You can't!"

"Which is more important?" Sky asked. "Saving River or stopping this ship from taking off. Seems River made it pretty clear it was the second."

"We have to assume that if the ship takes off, River is lost," Mal agreed.

"Then we have to stop it from taking off," Zoë said adamantly. "No contingency plans. No what ifs unless it makes us a better plan."

Mal placed a hand on her shoulder to quiet her but she shrugged him off.

"We're losing time!"

"We need a plan," Mal countered quietly.

Zoë grunted in angry frustration, but channeled it toward ideas. "The Ward will be connected to any high-capacity hospital in town, probably by underground rail. We take Uncle Simon in for treatment, and once we're there, it shouldn't be hard to find the access point. I know what to look for."

"That gets us in," Simon said.

"Not with a cannon," Jayne pointed out. "You can't stop a ship by looking at it."

"Don't our prisoners have a ship stunner-majig?" Kaylee spoke up, chewing thoughtfully on her lip.

"It didn't do much to us."

Kaylee shrugged. "It works like a toggle. We already had so much down and it only killed what was fixed. If we can figure out how to run it, it should stop the ship and stun those inside."

Mal nodded, formulating the plan. "Zoë, you and me are going in hospital-wise to try to find this ship and stop it before it takes off. Kaylee, you and Sky work on the ship stunner-majig and have it ready in case we fail. Jayne, Inara, take the shuttle. If that ship gets past the stunner, don't let it break atmo. We have a little over two hours left, then everyone can sleep in tomorrow."

-----

Mal knelt in front of Cole, holding his one unbroken hand, waiting for Simon to be done so he could carry him to the shuttle. Kaylee and Simon were talking to their kids about what was going on and Simon was showing them what to do if Michael stopped breathing again. Jamie started crying and Kaylee did her best to console him. Inara leaned over Michael, whispering soothes, promising she wouldn't go far and that she'd say his song the whole time.

Mal looked at Cole's hand, so tiny inside his own. He didn't have any words to say. If only he'd kept Cole with him instead of sending him to the Infirmary. It was supposed to have been safer there. How could he have known.

Cole's fingers twitched inside his, and suddenly the boy pitched forward, nuzzling his face against Mal's neck. Mal hugged him, rocking gently.

"I'm so sorry, Baba," Cole whispered, his voice drowned in guilt, but dry of tears. Mal wished he'd cry.

"What are you talking about, little hero? You saved my skin, and you did it without breaking the night-vision goggles."

It failed to get a laugh, but he felt Cole sigh and relax a little.

"And look at your little brother," Mal continued, tilting their embrace sideways so Cole could see. "Look at him, breathing, talking to Mama. You saved his life. You know that right? So what are you sorry about?"

Cole buried his face miserably in Mal's shoulder. Mal ran a hand through his hair, and held onto his son until the others stood, ready to go.

"You sit tight, now," Mal told Cole, pulling back. "There's work to be done. Mama and I have to save the ship … again."

Cole's breathing quickened. "Can I come?"

He didn't want to help; he just didn't want to be left alone. Mal stroked the hair away from his face and smiled gently. "No. You wait here with the other kids. Stay with Michael so he won't be lonely."

Cole looked back at Michael, then nodded obediently. Mal stood and backed away. With one last look at his parents, Cole scooted around, and then laid down next to Michael, putting his one good arm across tenderly Michael's chest. He started that word game the kids always played when they were told to sit still and wait for trouble to pass. Genny informed him that Michael's hearing aid was broken, so Cole spelled the word out in sign. Genny and Jamie joined the game. All the kids were using sign, and Mal watched, mesmerized, because he never knew they'd learned it.

"You think we'll get there in time to save River?" Kaylee asked, touching his arm.

Mal didn't answer. He just motioned the others to help him get Simon up the stairs and into the shuttle. Before taking off, he checked to make sure they had sufficient survival gear for three. Inara touched his arm.

"Zoë first," she said. He understood. She was telling him not to let Zoë sacrifice herself for River. The kids were always first in this. That was why there was so much opportunity to fail. Mal would protect Zoë first. Sky and Kaylee had the rest of the kids to consider. Inara and Jayne were their last leg of defense, and the only ones not seconding their mission to the safety of the kids. In all likelihood, either they would die, or River would. Mal pulled Inara close and kissed her sadly, but she turned away.

"That was a lousy victory kiss," she teased, and then she stood on tip-toe and pecked his cheek before pulling out of his embrace. "Try again after we've won."

-----


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Easy!" Simon carped as Zoë hefted him roughly across her shoulders and adjusted her grip on his wrist. The idea of carrying Simon between their shoulders had been hindered seriously by fact that Mal was a good bit taller than Simon or Zoë, but they were making do. Simon had been going in and out of consciousness for the entire walk from the shuttle and Mal wished like hell he'd just stay passed out. Then he could have his way and just toss Simon over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"You're awfully whiny for a hero," Mal said.

"Stop calling me that."

Simon killed a man to save Cole. Mal wasn't soon to forget that or let it go unthanked.

"Aunt Kaylee calls him –"

"Hey!" Simon warned and Zoë bit back a snicker.

"Zo, there are some things men don't want to know about other men," Mal said.

He could see the hospital now, and he resisted the urge to speed up. Simon swooned and Mal reached across to catch his weight. They paused long enough to let him wake and catch his breath. Zoë wiped the sweat from her lip and leaned her hands on her knees, looking from Simon to the hospital door. The area was well-lit, considering the time of night, and the neighboring buildings shielded it somewhat from the wind.

"Why did we park so far?" she panted.

"Don't you get whiny too," Mal said.

"I'm sixteen, I can't help it."

Mal nudged Simon and Zoë took the cue. Once inside, they all gasped gratefully, inhaling lungs full of warm, clean air… and probably more than a few pathogens. Mal checked the directory and nodded to the left.

"Elevators are that way. Burn ward is on sixteen."

"Don't we need to check in first?" Zoë asked.

"I don't like waiting."

They entered the elevator and Simon swooned again. They were close enough to the destination that Mal didn't mind throwing Simon over his shoulders. As soon as the elevator opened, Zoë dashed into the hall and found a bed. Mal followed her behind the curtain and laid Simon down carefully. Simon stirred almost immediately and started mumbling a list of supplies he needed for treatment. Mal tried not to laugh at him for being so single-minded.

"What's going on here?" a blue-coated doctor demanding, yanking back the curtain.

"Third degree burns," Simon said, his voice gravelly but fervent as he sat up. "I've got it handled.

Zoë looked apologetically at the doctor. "Doctors make the worst patients."

The doctor nodded knowingly, and went into auto-pilot. "Chart?"

"We're walk-ins," Mal explained.

The doctor made a disapproving face, and poked Simon in the chest. "Lay back."

Simon complied, looking simultaneously grateful, indignant, vulnerable, and defensive. The doctor examined Simon's injured leg, wrapped ankle to thigh in tight plastic to keep out infection. Pulling over a cart, he cut the plastic and gingerly pulled it away, exposing the wound. Mal could see it wasn't fully cleaned of debris or charred clothing. It had been too dark to see when they were doing it. Simon whimpered, cried out, and then blacked out again.

"How long has this wrap been on?" the doctor asked, not phased in the slightest by Simon's unconsciousness.

"An hour, give or take," Mal answered. "Can you fix him?"

The doctor hummed thoughtfully and called for a nurse to assist him. The way the two set to work and ignored Mal was as good a sign as any. Mal nodded to the hall, and he and Zoë left quietly.

-----

Jayne and Sky dragged the prisoners to one side of the cargo bay so they wouldn't get run over when Kaylee drove in the truck with the ship stunning device. He'd gagged two of them, and the other four took the hint and kept quiet of their own accord. It was dangerous that the prisoners outnumbered the number of competent fighting adults, even unarmed. No sense griping about it now. Sky was sexy as hell, flashing a sub-machine gun at the prisoners, getting them whimpering for mercy. The weapon was too big for the job, but Mal wasn't around to warn her off, and they got to play with prisoners so rarely. Inara would've said something, but she was upstairs prepping the shuttle. Jayne still had to clean the cannon and mount it to the shuttle before he and Inara took off.

Kaylee pulled in with the truck and they all gawked at the ship stunner, debating whether it needed to come off the flatbed. It was a strange contraption, looking like a cross between a cannon and a catapult but with a dizzying array of electronics instead of mechanical springs. Sky tossed the sub-machine gun to Jayne and hopped right into the mix of machinery next to Kaylee. Jayne knew something wasn't right by the way they started arguing.

"Problem?" Jayne asked.

"System's locked," Sky answered.

"I can wire around it," Kaylee said. "It just might take an hour."

"We don't have an hour," Sky said, a little too harshly. "Do you think Genny –"

"No," Kaylee cut off sternly, though there was a hidden maybe in there. Jayne knew Kaylee didn't want to pull her kids into this if at all possible. Thinking toward solutions, Jayne turned to the prisoners, walked up to one of the talkative ones, and ripped the tape off his mouth.

"Show me how it works," he threatened, tapping the gun against the man's cheek.

The man quivered fearfully and his jaw flapped a few times before he finally managed to speak. "I don't know."

"Show me!" Jayne hollered again, this time burying the muzzle in the guy's forehead.

"Jayne," Sky called. She pointed two prisoners down, as calmly as though she were hinting at which pair of shoes she wanted for her birthday. Jayne abandoned the first prisoner, stood over the one she indicated and pointed. Sky nodded eagerly, making a slicing motion in the air.

Trying again, Jayne squatted and pulled this one up by the hair. He nodded back to the first guy. "You don't like him much do you?"

This one wore a blue-collared shirt and a smug sneer.

"Are you gonna show me?" Jayne asked. When the man stayed silent, Jayne pulled his knife from his boot.

"He doesn't know," the man next to him cried. Jayne looked in surprise at the wiry, little imp. "I'll do it! I'll show you."

"Shut-up, Ian!" the blue-collared one carped.

Confused, Jayne looked at Sky and she threw her arms up in frustration.

"I am never going to get his ear!"

Jayne chuckled and shook his head. A girl's gotta have hobbies.

-----

"Baba," Zoë whispered, handing him a white jacket as they crossed out of the burn unit and headed for the elevators again. She pressed the button for two and bounced on her feet when the lift moved.

"Do you think one of us should've stayed with Uncle Simon?"

Mal looked up, as if he could still see Simon lying here. "You can go back. I won't stop you."

She rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together, knowing he was just being protective. He didn't know where they were going anyway. He wouldn't have stopped on the second floor if he were searching for an underground rail system, but the elevator didn't have an option for secret sub-basement. He shivered when they rounded a corner and came to a glass door marked with the symbol of the Ward.

It looked serene enough – just another set of double glass doors and a hallway of rooms. But Simon was right. Mal could feel the tangible presence of demons and soul-sucking darkness as if the evil spirits were leached onto the glass, waiting to pounce on any who crossed the threshold.

Zoë paused and they made fake small talk until someone with a keycard came, and they slid through quickly just before the doors could close. They were intercepted almost immediately by a beefy receptionist that doubled as a bouncer.

"Excuse me, do you have authorization cards?"

There were too many people around for Mal to pull his gun, and he could see the outline of an energy weapon tucked into the man's scrubs.

"Not yet," Zoë answered sweetly. "I'm Dr. Wu's new research assistant and this is my thesis advisor from the university. He's expecting us."

The receptionist looked doubtful, but she kept that innocent, eager student look on her face and Mal backed the lie by trying to look distinguished and professor-esque.

Getting no feedback, Zoë started again. "The patient just transferred from the diagnostic ward –"

"Alright," the man interrupted, looking disgruntled and motioning to a clipboard on the desk. "Sign in."

Zoë signed two fake names, asked politely to be pointed toward Dr. Wu's lab, and then led the way down the hall. Mal couldn't help beaming with fatherly pride.

"You researched this place?"

"No," Zoë laughed nervously. "Just seems every hospital has a Dr. Wu on the roster. Research would've been a good idea."

They passed Dr. Wu's lab and kept going, picking up on the trail of a lab tech with tissue samples. The tech went into a freight elevator and Mal and Zoë followed, riding down with him. This lift had an option for the lower basement floors, and set them out, just has Zoë had predicted, at an underground rail station.

"Which way?" Mal asked.

Zoë pulled out the GPS they were using to track River. "No satellite signal down here. Do you have a compass?"

"That would be in my other coat," Mal said. Closing his eyes, he retraced his steps through the hospital, oriented himself, and pointed. "North is that way."

"Go ten degrees east," Zoë instructed. Mal adjusted himself and opened his eyes. He wasn't facing any of the train tunnels; he was facing a solid wall.

Zoë shrugged. "That's the general direction."

Mal surveyed the two choices of train tunnel. "Care to guess?"

The doors to the elevator hissed open and Mal grabbed Zoë's arm, ducking into the shadows. Two armed guards stepped onto the platform, escorting a heavily drugged patient between them. A few seconds later, a train arrived and the trio stepped on board. Mal and Zoë followed quietly. It was a single car train, and the guards eyes Mal and Zoë suspiciously, but Mal led Zoë to the end of the car and they sat quietly. Zoë was practically bursting from her skin, glaring daggers at the armed guards, hand pressing over her gun so firmly that the outline was visible through her coat. Mal couldn't touch her. It wouldn't look right.

Leaning as close as he dared, he whispered, "Zo –"

"Mmm."

"Look at me."

Zoë fidgeted anxiously, but finally turned to face him. She had so much of her mother's fire, and now she was getting that hard edge the momma-Zoë had found in Serenity Valley, and that broke Mal's heart. One day she would battle the Ward, but today was not the day to start.

"We can only take on one war at a time," Mal told her. "Keep focus. Distracted means dead."

Her fists clenched in her lap, but she closed her eyes and found her calm. She needed it. When the train stopped, so did Mal's heart. The ship that River spoke of was right there in front of them. And so was River.

-----

Jayne checked the bolts on his make-shift wind-shield and make-shift cannon mount. The shuttle wasn't designed for shooting down space ships and the best Jayne could do was stick his head out the top hatch, point, and shoot. He wasn't looking forward to doing it at 10,000 feet, going 700 miles per hour, but he'd done worse in his time.

Inara was a good pilot. She had steady hands and a good sense for how ships moved in atmo. Jayne figured the sensitivity was one of those transferable skills from companioning. It always amazed Jayne that Inara had kept up with the companion gig for almost two years after she and Mal got together. She hadn't stopped until they started talking about kids. It was always a profound mystery to Jayne how they'd made it work in the first place, but he never tired what it was like to see. The whole 'verse could turn on the strength of their love. Jayne had turned down more than a few lucrative job offers just to stay near it.

Mal expected him and Inara to sacrifice themselves if that's what it took to take down this ship, but Jayne wouldn't do it. He would do whatever it took to keep Inara safe, and get them back to Serenity. She needed to be there for Mal and he'd be damned if he left his little Emily without a father. They'd do what they could and get themselves home. The rest would work itself out.

"Stop fiddling, there's only so much you can do," Inara said sharply, tapping his leg as she walked by.

Jayne grunted in frustration and climbed down the ladder, closing the top hatch. Didn't make too much a difference, since he planned to open it again in twenty minutes, but at least they'd be warm until then. Ambient temperature at that altitude was not far above freezing. If they didn't catch this thing before it broke 15 thousand feet, the cannon wouldn't have enough air to fire properly, and the emptiness would freeze the mechanics. Jayne was still trying to warm up from before.

Jayne pulled on his gloves again and strapped on his hat. He felt ridiculous, all bundled up while still inside, but he'd do what he needed and he'd kill anyone who laughed at him. He was pulling the airlock door shut when Sky came skipping down the catwalk, all sweet and smiling, holding a long case. Jayne recognized a new gun when he saw one, so he waited by the door and tried to keep from smiling like a goon.

Sky sauntered up close to him, leaning in until her breath tickled his ear, and then she slipped the case into his hands. "This is supposed to be a birthday present. Don't open it unless you need it."

Jayne's skin went tingly with anticipation as Sky left a trail of butterfly kisses on his cheek, and backed away seductively. It was all Jayne could do to close that airlock door and stay focused on the job. And now he had a shiny new gun that he could open in case of an emergency. This was the best worst day ever.

"Oh, she gave it to you," Inara said cheerfully as Jayne looked for a safe place to stow the black case.

"Just for an emergency."

"Try not to drool on the console," Inara teased. "Well we can't have an emergency, because I forgot to bring a camera, and I want to preserve the look on your face when you see it."

Jayne looked at the case, both excited and suspicious. "Why? Is it chocolate?"

"What else does Sky want in an emergency?" Inara laughed conspiratorially.

The shuttle took off and Jayne waited for Inara to get a sense of the new aerodynamics with the cannon mounted on top. He wished he had a few rounds to spare so he could do a test shot, but he only had three, and he was saving every one. He'd brought an M2 and a sniper rifle just in case, but there was only so much stability he'd have holding either of those on top of a ladder, poking his head through the top hatch. On that thought, he decided he better bolt the ladder to the floor.

They got the location from Mal and Zoë, so they had the general target area of where the ship would be launching. Inara flew circles, getting the lay of the land, figuring out where the fires were, where the towns were. It was in case they crashed, or as she said, 'landed with unintentional gusto.' She wanted to find a reasonably safe landing point.

The night was clear, but the Moon was dim and it was difficult to see. Inara circled again, and swerved sharply, narrowly missing a large ship as it raced out of orbit. Jayne hadn't been on the bridge at the time, but based on the emblem on the shield, he figured that this was the ship that had shot Serenity down.

-----


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Mal walked stiffly off the train, Zoë in tow, eyes firmly on River. Her skin was pale and smeared with ash and sweat. Broken twigs clung to her hair and clothes and she didn't have any shoes on her feet. Someone had thought to put those blue hospital footies on her, but the heel was spotted with blood, and her entire body trembled.

"Wo de tian, a," Mal breathed. "What have they done to her?"

Despite looking sickly, she and half a dozen others were busy loading hard-shell, climate controlled cases onto the ship. The cases were marked as biohazards. The room was pristine white and hexagonal, with one entirely glass wall separating the inside from the railway tracks. On the opposite wall was the only other exit from the place. Along the left walls were shelves and refrigerators and along the right were computers. A small space ship stood dead-center, tipped upward so that the coned nose faced a closed hatch. A curved conveyer belt and ramp led to the entrance mid-ship, bypassing the standard fold-out stairs. The ship was a mid-range, small charter that wouldn't seat more than nine people and wouldn't carry them farther than a few moons away. It was painted and stenciled for use by the wealthy and elite, and Mal resented it as a senseless luxury item in a destitute 'verse.

Zoë tapped Mal's arm, and led him to a computer station that had read-out stats from the vessel's various take-off controls and onboard refrigeration system. Standing squarely in front of the station, Zoë picked up a clipboard, and then leaned in to talk to Mal in a low voice.

"The others workers look fine," Zoë whispered. "I don't think Aunt River's condition is an effect of the possession. She probably has smoke inhalation, moderate exposure to the elements, severe drug withdrawal… I suppose whoever is controlling her can choose not to feel those things."

Mal glanced back at River, worried. "That choice aside, a body will keel on its own accord in that condition. Would we be able to tell if she were already …"

He trailed off, not wishing to think the thought. River was one of his own – one of his family. Since before he knew her name, from the moment he first saw her, she was under his protection. When he kicked open that box and saw her naked and vulnerable, he'd immediately assumed the worst of Simon, and he'd stood up to protect her.

Could he really count the years? Had she really spent half her life on his boat, under his protection? Would they be able to tell if she were already –

"Dead?" Zoë finished, her voice flat. How could she be so cold? "I don't know. You'd think if that were an option, he'd have gone first with the zombies. Dead readers are more common than live ones."

"And less feisty," Mal agreed. "If you recognize any dead folk, you let me know."

Zoë nodded and surveyed the people loading the ship, mostly being ignored.

"So we've found River," Zoë said as they circled the room for the second time. "We've found the ship. Was there more to this plan?"

Mal laughed nervously as Jayne's words floated through his mind. _Can't stop a ship by looking at it._ He circled the ship once, then cut in line to go up the ramp.

"Let's go in. I'll take the cockpit; you take the engine room."

"And do what?" Zoë hissed as she hurried to keep up with him. "Throw my shoe in the engine?"

"For the money I put into your shoe collection?" Mal teased.

"My collection ain't even half the size of Mama 'Nara's," Zoë retorted. "But you're right. I like these boots too much."

The interior of the ship couldn't house more than four people like kings, ten like peasants. He reckoned his cargo bay had more volume than the whole thing, but Mal always credited Serenity with a spacious bay anyhow, and he'd never walked on a boat that held a candle to his own. This ship was narrow, all ladders, and designed for zero-g enthusiasts.

"I think the engine room is that way," Mal said, pointing down the stairs, then climbing up to the next level, stopping at the top. This one was more spacious than the last, meant to be a common area. Mal jumped in surprise when Zoë came up the stairs immediately behind him.

"If you don't mind, I'll stick to you," Zoë said. "In case something goes wrong."

Mal smiled and surveyed the galley, looking for another stair case. There had to be some crew-restricted stairway to get to the cockpit from here.

"Nobody has even blinked at us, Zo. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Of all of life's questions, that is one that will never go unanswered."

Mal tensed, hearing the nervousness in her voice. When he turned, he saw River at the top of the stairs, pointing an energy weapon directly at them. Mal heaved a sigh and raised his hands in the air.

"O, zhe zhen shi ge kuai le de jin zhan."

-----

Kaylee was exhausted, and her insides quivered with the strain it took to stay awake. Serenity was quivering a bit too, but that was probably just her hands on the yoke. As pilots went on this ship, Kaylee rated only slightly higher than Simon or the kids. She'd always admired Wash for his skill, and she'd helped him make most of the customizations that gave Serenity its maneuverability, but she was all mechanics and no skill. Especially now with her kidneys bruised and screaming about being upright for the twenty-somethingth straight hour. Were they up to thirty yet?

She kept picturing her kids and the way they'd both cuddled up to Simon and fallen asleep just a little while ago, exhausted but safe. Genny was a strong-willed girl and took adventure and hardship in stride. She'd flaunt her battle scars in the day, and when all the boys fell asleep, she'd take off that invincible mask, sneak into Little Zoë's room, and confess her fears. Jamie was a sweeter, quieter soul. He was quaking inside, but he locked it away because his first duty right now was caring for Emily. Jamie was like Simon; he was biding his time, waiting until things settled down so he could go off by himself and sort things through. Kaylee hated having to wake them up; hated putting that syringe in Genny's hand and telling her what to do if Michael started dying again; hated setting Emily in Jamie's shaking arms and telling him to hold out just a few more hours.

She'd been looking forward to the end of this day. Looking forward to taking her husband into their bunk, tearing all his clothes off, and making love until she felt alive again. Pealing away the melted fabric from his charred skin wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind. Would he ever be able to make love to her again? Kaylee's breath quickened and a tear escaped, hot against her cheek.

"Don't you start, girl," Sky said softly, consulting a handheld as she paced the bridge. "Ten miles to the East."

Kaylee didn't know if Sky was standing because she was too injured to sit or because she had too many guns strapped to her legs. They'd been so long in hardship that Sky's bruises were already fading to yellow and her swollen eye was opening again. Kaylee could see the water brimming in Sky's eyes, but knew the other woman wouldn't dare let one tear fall in the open. If they didn't know each other so well, Kaylee wouldn't have even noticed anything underneath that steel cold, threatening exterior.

Ian the prisoner, had been extremely helpful in readying the ship stunner, and also surprisingly calm given the number of guns Sky trained on him. Kaylee could understand, though. It didn't matter how many guns were on her, she never worried about her life if all she needed to do was fix something to save herself. Now all they had to do was deliver the device to whatever site Mal and Zoë had transmitted, and they were done. It would be over.

Kaylee increased altitude as the smoke thickened. They were headed right over the flames.

"That's a pretty dense forest," Kaylee commented.

"Yeah. And?"

Kaylee furrowed her brow, wondering if there was some part of the plan that she missed or simply couldn't process given her current level of exhaustion. "Where are we gonna set down? Serenity can't be in the air when this goes off or we'll get knocked out too."

Sky blew air out her lips and leaned her head against the wall, trying to gather wisdom from the feel of the cool metal on her skin. Aside from being relieved that Sky hadn't thought out this part of the plan either, Kaylee wasn't comforted.

"Can we lower it to ground on a cable and set it off remotely?" Sky asked.

Kaylee bit her knuckles doubtfully. "In twenty minutes?"

"Yes, in 20 minutes," Sky snapped irritably. "I'm not leaving you on this ship alone with those prisoners and I'm not leaving you on the ground in the middle of a burning forest."

"Good point," Kaylee said, starting to make a mental list of all the things she needed to do what Sky asked. "I guess that's the plan now."

"I guess it is."

-----

Mal stepped between River and Zoë instinctively. The space was too small to discharge a weapon, but he didn't put it above River to try. If he could call her River still. Up close, she looked even more like a ghost, with her skin gray and shriveled and her eyes twitching. Her lips were dry and cracked with crusted saliva at the corners. Mal wanted nothing more than to take her home, clean her up, and get that doctor-brother of hers to stop her limbs from trembling.

Zoë pressed forward, but Mal held out a hand to keep her back. River cocked her head, looking at them suspiciously, finger shaking over the trigger of her weapon so violently, Mal worried she'd discharge it by accident. He more hoped she'd drop it on accident.

"She knows you," River said, sounding confused and surprised. Her voice was low and hoarse like she needed water.

"I'm sure she does," Mal said evenly.

"Are you stewards of the Ward?" Her voice rose in concern and her hand tightened on the trigger. "What have you told them?"

Mal looked at his white coat, realizing she was confused by the poor disguise. The possessor didn't know everything River did, and seemed not to remember them from this morning. That was good – for Michael. The possessor also feared the Ward, and that seemed useful.

"They know every damn thing," Mal said. "You are finished. Let her go."

River laughed eerily. "She knows when you lie."

Mal didn't make a move. He knew how to lie to River – she'd trained them all how to mask themselves and stay quiet in her mind. He hadn't been ready, but he got himself there as fast as possible. There'd be no getting out of this if his intentions could be read clear off his own mind.

Zoë shifted her weight restlessly. "We're just here for River."

River growled. Perhaps she was clearing her throat. "You are very persistent."

"Please," Zoë pleaded. "You're killing her."

"I don't need her much longer. She'll last."

It was so cold and cruel, that Mal would have shot her if the 'her' hadn't been stealing River's body. This possessor planned to work River to death! Zoë let out a deep-throated cry and dropped to her knees, realizing the same thing. It seemed a bit of an over-reaction, considering how much she'd been under-reacting to everything else that day. He reached down, placing a soothing hand on the back of her head, and she clasped his hands, squeezing that last two fingers. Good girl. It was an act.

"So what happens now?" Mal asked, capturing River's attention by circling sideways around the room. "Do you kill us and take your chances with the Ward?"

River's face tensed, both from the fact that Mal was moving and that she worried about the Ward. "What have they paid you to be protectorate of a reader?"

Mal smirked.

"What is it that you've done to her? It is fascinating in her head."

Mal swallowed his anger. "She's my reader and you can't have her. Especially if you just mean to kill her."

River laughed again, her voice rich and coated with evil. "I will find them all eventually. Their minds are open and easily unlocked. I grow stronger with everyone that I take, and soon I will control minds that aren't even open."

If it weren't River staring him down, she'd be dead by now. As it was, he needed to find whoever it was possessing River and cut this thing at the root before it found Michael too. She looked him square in the eye, stepping forward like an evil seductress.

"Isn't that the power you seek, steward?"

"No," Mal answered simply, drawing his gun and pointing it, just to keep her from getting closer. "I'm here to protect the girl."

"You can't kill me," River goaded. "Not without killing her."

"I will hunt you down," Mal vowed. "You'll never hurt another reader again."

"Your concern…" she began.

He'd faltered. She saw it in his eyes. He should've kept his mouth shut.

"You're not protecting another are you?" she said interestedly.

Mal was saved from having to find an answer when Zoë launched across the room, tacking River sideways, knocking the gun from her hand. River twisted sharply, her knee connecting with Zoë's chin, knocking her against the wall. Grabbing Zoë's gun, River turned and shot Mal, and he felt the burn as the bullet grazed his side, ripping a fine chunk of flesh off his mid-section in the process. He swore, then crowded in, kicking River in the chest, then kicking away the gun.

"You surprised me!" River exclaimed, more intrigued than perturbed. River had told him once that he could be as predictable as he wanted in a fight, just so long as he wasn't readable. Mal had her down now. His boot was on her neck. Now what?

The engine rumbled to life, and the lights flickered as the ship switched to internal power. Now he'd failed, and it was up to Kaylee to stop the ship. He needed to get Zoë and get out fast! Sure that stunner thing would only knock them out, but no matter how non-fatal it was supposed to be, it'd still hurt like hell.

-----

Inara's heart pounded as the giant cruiser raced through the atmosphere on a collision course, as if it had not even noticed the little shuttle in the way. She didn't know if that was good or bad. Jayne's nose was pressed against the window and he craned his neck to get a view of the ship, and if Inara had had a hand free, she'd have smacked him out of the way. The shuttle rocked as the enemy swooped and Jayne fell into his seat as if that could get them clear of its path.

"Go down! Down!" he cried.

"I see it!" Inara said sharply, pushing down, then swinging starboard. They heard the cannon on the roof swing with the sudden shift in momentum and Jayne whimpered empathetically.

"Go that way!" he pointed right.

"Will you hush and let me fly!"

Inara broke above the clouds, out of the ship's way. A few seconds later, the ship peeked above the clouds. She dipped below, and it followed.

"Looks like they've lost their qualms about flying in atmo," she said gravely, turning tail and accelerating toward the foothills. A ship that size would not be able to navigate the terrain, and she needed to draw it away from Serenity.

Jayne jumped to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

He didn't answer, and for a moment, Inara worried that he was possessed to. He fingered the gun on his belt, drawing and re-holstering it a couple of times. Inara hadn't brought a gun, and she suddenly felt stupid.

Panicking, she rolled the shuttle and Jayne fell sideways, flat on his back, shoulders banging against the wall.

"Yesu, Inara!" he cried, glaring at her. "Hold her steady!"

"Jayne –"

Jayne crawled to the ladder he'd bolted under the hatch, then climbed up, keeping four point contact at all times. He wanted to use the gun. Inara checked the vid. Their pursuers were getting close. Hopefully not so close as to kill them.

Jayne yanked the hatch open and the air rushed out of the shuttle, pushing them downward, nearly sending them into a spin. Inara kept a firm grip on the yoke and prayed fervently. What was the recoil on that gun?

"Jayne, let me know –"

Too late. Jayne fired the cannon and the shuttle pitched into a forward roll, sending Inara flying into the console. Her vision turned red and she felt the floor smack her hard. She couldn't tell if it was the ship spinning out of control, or if it was just her.

-----

Kaylee was a genius. Sky said it often enough, and she'd said it at least ten times in as many minutes, but they were out of time, and so she'd delayed the rest of her ravings until later. Serenity hovered above an opening in the trees, and between gusts of wind, Sky could easily make out the artificial hatch covering the forest floor. That was there target. If all went well, the thing wouldn't even open, but Sky figured things wouldn't go well. Mal was better at breaking noses than breaking space ships.

The wind billowed, filling the cargo bay with black smoke and Sky choked. It was too late to grab a mask. They were down to eight minutes, give or take. Probably take, seeing as Mal hadn't set a timer on his conversation, and River hadn't qualified her time frame exactly.

They'd bolted the stunner to the flatbed and attached the four corners to Serenity's crane, so they could lower it through the hatch. It was a gamble in this wind, not only keeping Serenity steady, but keeping the load steady so that it didn't get snagged on a tree or snap the cables. She took the hand controls and started lowering the load.

"Steady," she murmured to herself, stepping away from the hatch as the ship pitched. She didn't want to fall out. Taking a breath to calm herself, she glanced at the prisoners. If Ian had betrayed them, this was when she'd see it on his face. Only Ian wasn't there.

Sky's hands froze over the controls and she blinked fervently, trying to clear her head of the smoke. She counted again.

"Oh, gou shi."

That little twerp could do too much damage in the four minutes it'd take her to finish lowering the damn stunner and Sky knew Kaylee wasn't armed. Neither of them thought to lock the cockpit. Grunting in frustration and steeling herself for a fight, Sky set the control aside and turned to grab her radio so she could warn Kaylee.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped in horror when she heard the kids screaming for help.

-----


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Kaylee held the yoke, wishing she'd taken more effort to fix the fly assist, because all those back-to-back catnaps hadn't helped a lick. The ship tottered and swayed with the weight of the stunner, still blowing in the wind. As near as she could tell, they were still lined up properly, and there was no reason not to set the thing down. She wished Sky would hurry.

Adjusting the angle of the outside viewer, she could see the flatbed with the device, swaying in and out of vid. This was where the hatch was supposed to be, but she couldn't make it out for the camouflage. Sky said it was there, though, and Kaylee trusted her eyes. She lost all cause for doubt when the hatch opened up, blasting clean air through the smoke, revealing the shiny nose of a ship inside.

"Here it comes," Kaylee murmured to herself. She tapped the comm. "Sky, what's the status?"

No response. The people inside the hatch could certainly see Serenity… unless the ship was on some kind of auto sequence and it would take off at zero time regardless. Serenity needed to get out of the way.

"Sky?" Kaylee tried again.

Kaylee sighed, wishing the day had been going well enough that she didn't immediately assume that Sky had fallen out the hatch and gotten mangled by the branches of the burning trees. She hated calling on one of the kids again, but the ship wasn't fixed enough for her to leave the bridge. She hit the comm.

"Genny, honey. I need you to run to the cargo bay and check on Sky."

Genny was at that age where she'd figured out that her parents were not invincible, although she hadn't quite figured it about herself yet. Kaylee blamed the Captain because he'd been at that age … well, as long as Kaylee had known him. Genny could stay calm and take action, no matter what she found in the cargo bay – which hopefully wasn't more than a jam in the mechanism.

Kaylee looked at the silent speaker. Genny hadn't said okay, but then she was just a kid and didn't always think in terms of protocol .

"Please, God, let the comm be working," Kaylee muttered. She hit the button again. "Jamie, did Genny already leave?"

Kaylee waited. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The stunner wasn't moving closer to the ground, and Kaylee knew for a fact Serenity wasn't rising. She couldn't drop any lower without skimming the trees, and Kaylee didn't dare test her flying skills that far.

"Sky?" Kaylee called again, sending message over the broad speakers. "Is there anyone out there who can answer?!"

Trying to keep her head clear, Kaylee glanced back at the door. Her stomach twisted in knots. There was nothing she could do until that thing was on the ground and the only way to get it there from here was to cut the cable from the safety release. But then if the mechanism was jammed and Sky had climbed up to fix it and gotten tangled, she really would end up mangled by the tree branches.

"Sky, if you can hear me, get away from the hatch. I'm gonna cut the release."

Kaylee waited, worried that she wasn't getting a response. There was only a slim chance the stunner would survive the fall, with their remote activator in tact. But it was all the chance she had left. A red light flashed next to the hatch, signaling the eminent take-off. So Kaylee cut the cord on the stunner and got Serenity the hell out of the way.

-----

Mal hadn't thought this through in the strictest manner. He couldn't wrestle River off the ship and he couldn't very well expect her to sit still while he and Zoë turned high-tail. He could try knocking her out, but given that she'd fought Sky while technically sedated and looked for all the 'verse like she should be lying on a gurney now –

River pretzeled underneath him, kicking his boot off her neck, and sending him stumbling. She lunged for the gun again, but Mal knocked it out of the way, throwing his weight on her, using sheer physics to hold her down, because that was the only thing so far that worked.

"Zoë, get out of here!" he hollered. He could distract River long enough, but Zoë wasn't leaving. She wasn't fighting either. She was rifling through the cabinets of the galley.

"This is no time for a snack!" Mal cried.

River laughed haughtily, slamming her fist against his bleeding stomach, and twisting her knuckles inside the wound. Mal's jaw clenched with anger as he jumped off of her and drew his gun.

"I did not ask you."

Licking the blood off her knuckles and pushing to her elbows, River glared at him fearlessly, daring him to shoot. "How sweet – sending the little girl away so she doesn't have to watch you kill me."

"Ha!" Zoë said, pulling a stash of zip ties from a drawer and holding them up triumphantly. It wasn't the strongest restraint, and maybe if she'd had them three minutes ago, they would've stood a chance of hog-tying River.

"We're both leaving," Zoë told Mal. She turned to River, who scooted away until she was backed against a wall. "You should come with us. You don't want to be on this ship after take-off."

River eyed Zoë appraisingly, her mouth partly open, the blood on her lips adding surreal color to her pallid, ash-smeared face. Looking from Zoë to Mal, River finally clasped her wrists together and held them up for Zoë to tie, as a sign of agreement. She stood slowly, and Mal tensed, motioning Zoë to give him the zip ties.

He took one step closer.

Before he knew it, River spun around, her elbow catching him squarely in the chest. Her foot connected with his wrist and hard enough that Mal felt his bones break. Charging back, Mal jabbed and kicked.

"Zoë, go!" he ordered. One day she'd listen to him. Today, she had her gun drawn.

"Let him go!"

"No! Zo –"

"Bi zui!" she said harshly.

She did not want to fire on River. Shouldn't have to. Mal fought against River, struggling to keep her away from Zoë, and also to keep Zoë from getting an angle. River leered at him, loving the internal battle she sense in him. She smashed them sideways, jamming his injured side against a protruding cabinet handle. He cursed the world as it turned red, and then his ears filled with the deafening explosion of gunfire. When River fell, Mal fell too.

-----

Sky dashed toward the sound of her screaming children, her heart burning with anger and anxiety. They weren't panicked cries for help, because for all they knew, there was no one who could help them. She heard Cole and Genny shouting warnings and empty threats and Ian hollering back at them, sounding more afraid of them than they of him. She switched weapons, dropping the sling, and drawing the pistol. One shot between the eyes would end this hun dan, and maybe she'd have enough time to go back to the cargo bay and finish her job.

Rounding the corner, gun drawn, finger twitching on the trigger, Sky took one look at the situation and her whole body stilled. Righteous anger and vicious maternal instinct simmered, starting at her feet, rising to her face. Ian held Jamie up by his face, and Jamie fiercely struggled to keep from dropping Emily. Emily whimpered, then cried hysterically, too distraught to notice her mother come to save her.

Cole had his arms outstretched, blocking off the path to Michael, and holding Genny behind him. Sky could tell the girl was a hairs-breadth from launching herself onto their attacker and saving her twin, but Ian had a small Alliance energy-pistol in one hand and pointed it alternately between Genny, Jamie, and now Sky.

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Sky asked, keeping her voice low, calm, and patronizingly critical. "Honestly. There's no shuttle to escape on. Did you want to take over the ship?"

Ian's breath quickened and he hefted Jamie up to get a better grip. Jamie grunted at the blow to his midsection, and nearly pitched forward as Emily kicked her legs to balance.

"I agreed to give you what you wanted," Ian said quickly, his eyes darting around for an escape. "Let me go."

"Let the kids go and we'll talk," Sky said evenly.

Ian ducked his face behind Jamie, pressing his back to the burnt out Infirmary, giving Sky the opening she needed to protect the other three kids. She took a step forward, but Ian pressed the barrel of his weapon right against Jamie's temple and Jamie struggled to get free.

"Jamie, hold still," Sky said calmly. The boy looked at her, white-faced, tears in his eyes. "You're going to put Emily down."

"No, kid," Ian hissed. "If you drop that baby, I swear, I'll kill you both."

Jamie whimpered and his lips curled like he wanted to wail, but he was holding back for Emily's sake. If she'd had any doubts before, Sky knew she was going to kill Ian now. Sky circled the room, facing off with Ian, placing herself between him and the other three kids. Ian shifted on his feet, looking toward the hallway she'd left open.

"Stay here," she whispered to Cole, her body brushing against his ever so lightly. She didn't dare take a hand off her pistol or glance to the side.

Ian sidled toward the hallway and Sky stepped boldly forward, crowding him out of the room.

"Stay back. I swear!" Ian cried as she followed him into the hall. It was darker here.

"Jamie, you got a good hold?" she asked, ignoring Ian. Jamie wasn't looking at her so much as the barrel of her gun. His mouth flapped and his hands quivered.

"Remember how I told you about the apple. You trust me, right?"

"No," Jamie squeaked, his chin dropping.

"Be perfectly still and close your eyes," Sky told Jamie. He sobbed and sagged in Ian's grip, too scared to fight.

"Emily, baby, safety." It was all Sky could do to keep her voice steady as she said it. Emily looked at her and the gun in her hand and she swallowed her questions, like no two-year-old should know how. Scrunching her eyes shut, Emily wrapped one arm around Jamie's shoulder, pressed her ear against his chest, then covered her other ear with her arm. Jayne had taught her, in the event that he was holding her while shooting at some villain. It wasn't meant to be this way – her so close to the target.

Ian was about to run.

Sky waited for her shot. She waited for Ian to turn just enough so that his head was clear of Jamie's and she fired, then she ran, trying to catch Jamie and Emily before they hit the ground. Jamie cried out as Ian's grip went slack, and his eyes shot open. His ankle turned when he hit the ground, and Sky caught them both. She scooped Emily against her shoulder, then hugged Jamie, pressing his face against her neck.

"Don't look. I got you," she whispered.

Shaking like a leaf, Jamie threw his arms around Sky's shoulders and wailed.

"I want daddy," he cried. "I want daddy."

Sky nuzzled her face against both children consolingly, keeping them turned away from the dead man on the floor. Emily's eyes were still scrunched and her hands over her ears.

"Don't look, baby," Sky whispered.

Adjusting her grip, Sky lifted Jamie with one arm, wincing as his weight fell on her bruised torso. He was too tall to be carried like this, but he couldn't walk on that turned ankle and she didn't want him opening his eyes. She wanted to tell him how brave he was, and how good for keeping hold of Emily.

"See. You're Auntie Sky never misses," she told him. Jamie had a burn on his cheek where the bullet passed just inches from his face. They were very well-calculated inches on Sky's part, but very frightening ones for Jamie. "You think now your daddy will let me shoot apples off your head."

Jamie wailed. This probably wasn't how Simon and Kaylee usually consoled their kids.

"Probably best he didn't," Sky agreed. "No sense ruining a perfect statistic with increased sample size."

Sky set Jamie down in the lounge with the other kids, and Genny immediately ran to hug him. Cole stood protectively between Michael and the rest of the space, his eyes darting fearfully around the room. Leaving them there, Sky returned to the hallway where Ian lay bleeding out. Switching Emily to her left arm, Sky squatted, and lifted the corpsified idiot by his belt buckle, and hauled him back to the cargo bay, throwing him in the mix of other prisoners as an example. When one of them cried out in fear, Emily peeked.

"Hey, now," Sky warned, turning her face away. Looking to the open hatch, she saw that the cable had snapped and they were no longer over the forest. She went to the controls at the bottom of the stairs and closed the hatch.

"Call the doctor?" Emily asked timidly.

Sky looked at her child, worried that she was injured, but Emily was looking at Ian.

"Doctor can't help him," Sky said matter-of-factly, heading up the stairs to relieve Kaylee. Jamie needed his mom. "This is why we don't point guns at people's heads. Safety."

Emily nodded, but she was too young to understand death. She was too young to understand what she'd just been through. Hopefully, she was too young to remember.

-----

The force of the cannon recoil knocked Jayne back, throwing him so hard against the rim of the hatch, he thought his spine would snap in two. The shuttle bucked and Jayne swore, hooking his foot on the rung of the ladder so he wouldn't get sucked out. The wind tore about him, ripping at his hair, stinging around his goggles with ice-cold pin prickles. Jayne's stomach churned and knotted as they rolled and his head went so heavy that he flattened against the hull. They were spinning out of control!

Pushing gloved hands on the rim of the ship, Jayne fought the g-force of the spin which was countered madly by the shuttle's internal gravity. He felt dizzy and his vision was foggy when he fell to the floor and for a second he just lay there trying to adjust to the two fighting gravities. Wiping the condensation from his goggles, he craned his neck to see when they'd be righted.

"Inara!" Jayne ripped the goggles off his face, double-taking in horror. Inara lay on the floor, bleeding from the head, moaning softly. Rolling onto his knees, Jayne scrambled past her into the pilot's chair. The ground was coming at them mighty fast. Jayne yanked the yoke and the ship reared, righted, then spun the other way.

"Inara!" he shouted again. He gained attitude control and steadied the ship, just in time to see the enemy ship chase them through the clouds. Jayne veered sideways as they approached a high mountain peak, and the enemy ship followed him easily. So close!

Jayne glanced sideways at Inara. She blinked blearily, groaned, and pressed a hand to her head, smearing the blood over her eyebrow. Jayne swallowed hard, and released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, thanking any god vying for attention that he hadn't killed her.

"I was going to say," Inara chided, sitting up slowly, swallowing a grunt and a mouthful of bile. "Tell me before you fire so I can compensate. You lost half your momentum to recoil."

"I noticed," Jayne said, swerving sharply, then going low and fast. "Also, I think I ticked them off."

Inara took another moment to catch her breath, then asked for the controls back. The only way to escape this enemy ship was to shoot it down, and this time, they agreed on a signal so the ship would be ready. Jayne rubbed his face to clear his head, took a deep breath, and climbed out the hatch again. His stomach was bruised from when he'd hit the rim before, but he leaned through the uncomfortableness, wrapped himself around the cannon rifle, and took aim. The wind came from the front, flowing past with perfect aerodynamic smoothness, keeping him from swerving left or right. The calm was surreal, but natural.

The ship followed closely, but kept ducking below Jayne's site-line, as if they knew he had them in site. He waited. It would only take a moment. One slip. Inara banked left and as soon as she leveled, Jayne gave the signal. The sound of the cannon fire was lost in the blast of wind and thrusters. This time it was steady. The shot connected and the enemy ship lost control, veered into a mountain, and burst into flame. Within seconds, the smoke from that crash was indistinguishable from the haze of forest fires.

As soon as it was done, Jayne felt the world again – the harsh beating of the cold, thin air. He dropped down into the shuttle, if only to warm up before the next task.

"Any word from the others?" he asked as Inara turned the ship back toward their initial target.

Inara wiped blood and tears from her cheek, opening the throttle and racing them back.

"Can you make the shot from this distance?" she asked.

Jayne saw it too and his heart sank. The ship, the one they were trying to stop, the one with River on it – it was taking off, rising from the forest like a phoenix from the ashes. They couldn't even chase it with the shuttle because by the time they got close enough to fire, they'd be in space, and Jayne couldn't exactly put his head out the top then. All he kept thinking was he lost her. He lost River.

-----

Mal landed hard on his back, smashing his head against the corner, busting open the scabs on his back. His mid-section bled, his hand was broken, and his lip was bleeding from the fight. River fell hard on top of him, slamming against his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. In the foggy part of his mind that still clung to consciousness, he worried about the stunner knocking the ship out of the sky. He could tell by the rumble of the deck plates that they'd taken off. The vibrations rang through his body.

He threw his good arm over River. It was a little belated, but it occurred to him that he had to keep her from moving. It took awhile longer to realize that she wasn't moving at all. He needed air. He needed to get her off his chest.

Mal wriggled and pushed, gasping and choking as he swallowed a mouthful of blood. His cheeks stung and it took a moment to connect. Little Zoë's warm, trembling fingers cradled his face, and her tears splashed on his cheek.

"Baba," she called. "Baba."

The world reassociated just enough for Mal to clear his lungs and take in some air. He pushed to his elbows and River rolled off of his chest, landing crumpled next to him.

"Zoë?"

"I didn't," Zoë cried, leaning over him and putting pressure on his bleeding side. "I didn't kill her."

Mal sat up a little more, testing his head to make sure it stayed on. He remembered the gunshot.

"She just fell," Zoë choked. She leaned over Mal and rolled River onto her back. She was cold and pale, looking like an aged corpse, eyes rolled up in her head so that only the whites showed. Shifting onto his hip and bracing his broken hand against his chest, Mal leaned close to River, pressing his ear against her chest. Her heart was beating, soft but steady.

"She just fell," Zoë said again. Mal looked at his daughter and pressed his palm against her cheek, leaving a bloody print.

"Get to the bridge," he ordered, then pushed her back.

Zoë pressed her lips together so tightly they disappeared, but she obeyed. She stood, found her gun, and ran up the stairs. If they made it this far without getting hit by Kaylee's stunner, someone had to tell Jayne not to shoot them down!

Mal watched her go, glad she hadn't said a word of protest, but worried at the same time. She was like her momma. She wore her heart on her sleeve a bit more, and Mal wondered if Zoë had been like that before the war. Mal worried that soon he'd see the light leave his daughter's eyes, and little Zoë would become stoic, reserved, and untouchable. He didn't worry too much. Momma-Zoë was his best friend, and if her namesake turned out just like her …

River groaned and Mal tensed immediately, reaching for his gun. The reflex sent pangs of hurt through his broken hand, and his gun had been flung somewhere far. Where was it?

Forcing himself to sit up, Mal braced his broken hand against his chest again, and nearly pitched forward as his head went heavy and bile rose in his throat. He leaned his head against River's shoulder because he didn't have much of an option given his current state of wooziness. She did not lash out or push him off. Her quivering hands reached out softly, but did not connect.

"Daddy," she whispered. It was her voice. Hers! All choked with dehydration and dust, but present and familiar. Mal lifted his head and looked into her soft brown eyes, so weary and blood shot.

"How many times I got to tell you, you don't get to call me that," he chided.

She smiled weakly and tried to lick her lips, but her tongue was dry and everything stuck the wrong way. Her chest heaved, trying to get enough breath to speak and he pressed his finger to her lips, trying to keep her quiet. Then he tried to use his sleeve to wipe away the blood he'd smeared on her face. It was a royal mess – all of it.

"You did it," she croaked.

"Did what?"

River blinked slowly and for a moment, Mal thought she'd passed out. Looking around helplessly, Mal wondered if he had enough command of his own limbs to get her some water. As he pulled himself to his knees, River grasped his hand and tugged. She pressed his palm against her forehead, like she needed the pressure to keep her brain from exploding. Mal splayed his fingers so they stroked soothingly through her hair, and her nose scrunched like she would cry, but she didn't have enough water in her to form tears.

"He's gone," she whispered.

-----


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Mal winced as Inara unwrapped the bandage on his side, cleaned around the stitches, and re-wrapped it. It was cold in the galley and he wanted to wear a shirt, but he didn't have much skin above the belt that wasn't tender and broken. As Inara cleaned the wounds and smoothed fresh salve over his skin, Mal looked bitterly at his broken hand and wondered if the thing would ever heal properly again. Over the past ten years, that bone made a habit of breaking, and he told Sky it was her fault, because she was the one that broke it first. Mal hissed and flinched as Inara's hand rubbed over his side.

"Sorry."

"Just tickles," he said, because it did tickle a little, the way her fingernails danced feather-light over his skin. They could hardly look at each other.

Things weren't right – not even close. But at least things hadn't gotten worse in the last three hours. It took them awhile to suss out that River's possessor had probably been on that ship that Jayne shot down, and that's why things had settled. There was no reason for Mal to believe things were safe, even if they looked it at the moment.

The kids were down stairs – Zoë and Cole not wanting to leave Michael, Genny not wanting to leave Cole. Inara had been down there for awhile, but she kept coming up every hour to tend to Mal's cuts so they didn't get infected. It wasn't like someone else couldn't have helped him. It's that he wouldn't ask, and she wanted to do it herself.

Kaylee had finally given up fussing over Jamie, mostly because she was exhausted and injured her own self. She sprawled over the small couch in the alcove behind the dining area, one arm over her eyes, and had cried herself to sleep a half hour ago. Jamie sat at the table in the galley, hands in his lap, eyes downcast, plate of long-cold food in front of him. Every now and then, he'd poke at the noodles, separate one with his fingers, and eat it. He went back and forth between hugging his knees to his chest and resting his elbows on the table. Jamie was too scared to sit alone, but he needed the space to sort stuff out. Simon knew how to balance that somehow – probably because he was the same way. Mal had promised to take Kaylee and Jamie to the hospital to see Simon come morning. For now, he told them to get some rest.

Inara pressed her lips to the base of Mal's neck and he sighed softly, hearing the prayer in her breath. He reached for her hand, pulling her around so he could tend to that bump on her head, but she said she was fine and went downstairs to be with the kids. Mal wanted to follow and be with his family, but Michael got shaky seeing him all wounded, so he decided it best to wait until morning when he could handle the friction of fabric on his skin.

Inara's kiss tingled on his skin and Mal nearly nodded off in his chair. He jerked awake at a clamber from the hall, wrapped his hand around his gun, and though only, 'what now?' He would've stood up, but he was light-headed from losing too much blood in one day.

Jayne cursed and climbed the ladder to River's bunk, half pushing, half hauling the girl up with him. They'd cleaned her up, tended her wounds, and done what they could, but she was still suffering severe drug withdrawal, and until Simon came up with the right cocktail, a bit of psychosis as well. They didn't quite have an Infirmary to leave her in, so they' set her in her bunk and agreed to take shifts watching over her. Mal thought she'd be sleeping or throwing a fit, not stumbling into the galley like a gorram drunkard, hanging off Jayne's elbow.

"Is something wrong?" Mal asked as Jayne propped River in a chair and set her head on the table, because she couldn't seem to hold it up on her own. She slurred and drooled slightly and her fingers clenched and unclenched slowly. Even so, she looked better than before, and had a little color back in her skin.

"We was hungry," Jayne explained, filling a cup with water and setting it next to River. She dipped her finger in the cup and dabbed the liquid on her lips. Jayne went to the stove and started frying up the yellow protein scrambled eggs style. Mal looked doubtfully at Jayne, perturbed that he'd disrupted River just to feed his own stomach. River took a deep breath, lifted her head, and looked at Mal with apologetic eyes.

"We were hungry," she said seriously, then laid her head on the table again.

"You're cleaning it up," Mal told Jayne. There was no if. Hungry or not, River was not keeping anything down tonight.

Jayne ignored him and kept cooking.

"Zhi zi," River sang, her fingers dancing across the table and tickling Jamie's hand.

Jamie jerked away, jumping out of the chair like he was avoiding a snake. River grimaced and her eyes filled with hurt.

"Jamie," River called gently, lifting her head from the table and reaching out again.

"Feng le gou cao de e mo!" he shouted, shaking her off and running to the alcove with the couches. That boy could be quiet, but when he had words, he could out-curse Jayne, and he didn't care how much trouble he got in for it.

River turned to Mal, her eyes wide with guilt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as if she could have stopped all of this just by not being on board. Maybe she could've, but Mal wasn't going to bring it up.

Jamie paced in a circle in the lounge, ripped at his hair, then slumped on the floor near Kaylee. Kaylee stirred and rubbed her eyes.

"Jamie, apologize to your aunt," she said tiredly, her eyes still closed.

Jamie whined and hugged his knees. He had a right to be scared and angry at River. It wasn't a secret any more that her push had knocked Michael off the catwalk. Protection or no, Mal was struggling not to hold it against her too.

"Cry all you want, but you will not leave this boat tomorrow until you apologize," Kaylee warned.

She would do it too – she would keep Jamie from Simon. Given the circumstances, Mal would've let the indiscretion slide or sent the boy to his room to cool off, but Kaylee wasn't the type. As much as Jamie needed to get off the ship, he could manage so long as he wasn't alone on the lower deck. It was extortion threatening to take away his visit to Simon, but sending the boy to his room would've been downright cruel.

Jamie opened his mouth to protest again, but he thought better of it, mumbled his apology, and sulked. Kaylee ruffled his hair as she rolled to her feet, then came over to the table and sat next to River, wrapping River in a warm hug. With Simon gone, it fell to Kaylee to comfort River. It wasn't much of a leap. Those two had been sisters since before Kaylee and Simon ever signed a paper making it a legal fact.

Jayne came to the table and set a plate of food in front of River, then another plate with more food in front of himself. River picked at the food, resting her head on Kaylee's shoulder, looking guiltily at Jamie brooding by himself.

Sky meandered into the galley next and Mal wondered if any one would be getting sleep any time soon. They were all so exhausted, but so wound up, and no one wanted to be off guard when the next bombshell hit.

"Thought you were sleeping," Jayne said as Sky folded her arms across his hunched shoulders and started eating off his plate.

"I've been on the cortext the last hour with Walker," she sighed and Mal bristled. "He heard tell we hadn't started our job yet."

"Did you tell him he heard right?" Mal asked, rubbing his forehead, wondering if he could back gracefully out of a job he had fought with bullets to get into.

Sky smiled deviously. "I may have accused him of routing us through a plague town and bumped up our fee 10%. He is profusely sorry, and will transfer the money as soon as possible. We can get his goods to him by next week, right?"

Mal laughed incredulously. "Um. No."

"Oh. Ok," Sky shrugged. "Maybe I'll discount that 10% again when we're late."

Too much to do. Getting their hostages to make good on the agreement to fix the ship. Getting the kids through the trauma and making them feel safe. Getting Simon out of the hospital and bringing him home. Putting a job on top of it was a bit much, but it may be just the thing they needed to restore normalcy. And the way Sky made it so they were getting paid more instead of less…

"How does she get men to agree to this?" Mal asked Jayne.

Jayne shrugged his shoulders and just kept shoveling the food into his mouth. "You're asking the wrong man."

-----

Mal tested his feet and they were working okay. Since no one had been too keen on sleeping, he, Jayne, and Sky had dealt with their prisoners, and gotten them a square meal. Mal didn't like taking hostages as a rule, and he didn't like neglecting those in his keep. If they hadn't had the day they'd been having, two of those kids might still be alive, and that ate at him so.

Sending the others to get some rest, Mal found a broom and swept his way through the lower deck. Inara slept on the couch outside the burnt out Infirmary, cuddled against Michael. Mal checked to make sure they were okay, and moved on through the hall, but the other kids' rooms were empty. Zoë's door was open.

Mal peeked inside and found his daughter sitting against the head board, dozing lightly, butt of her gun sticking out from under the pillow. Cole was sitting sideways on the bed, head tipped back, mouth hanging open, sleeping too. Mal couldn't decide whether to lay them down or to keep watching, but he figured he should speak when Zoë's fingers closed subtly around her weapon.

"It's me, Zo."

Zoë opened her eyes, blinked at the light, and relaxed.

"Was Genny here too?" Mal asked, stepping over the mattress that had been dragged in from one of the other rooms and tossed in the middle of the floor.

"For a bit," Zoë said, stretching her limbs carefully so as not to hit Cole. "I sent her upstairs an hour ago. Jamie won't believe this is over until his dad comes home and Genny started talking about stealing a shuttle to get to the hospital … that kind of trouble is above my pay grade."

They shared a half-smile, then Zoë looked away again. Mal wondered if he should leave.

"You want to talk?" he offered.

She shook her head and the silence hung between them. Mal sat at the foot of the bed and Cole slumped a little when the mattress shifted. Zoë rolled onto her knees and pulled him gently until he lay down. He sighed as he stretched in his sleep.

"All this time I've been protecting him," Zoë murmured distantly, hugging her arms across her chest and looking at her brother. "I never thought to prepare him for what it's like…"

She covered her face with her hand, alternately looking at Cole and looking at the gun under her pillow. Crossing the space quickly, Mal pulled Zoë's hand away so she'd look at him.

"Hey," he soothed, trying to get her attention. "It's not your job to raise your brother."

She nodded and slouched, weighed down by weariness as much as guilt. Mal wondered if he could lift Cole with a broken hand. The answer was no, but he had to try.

"I'll take Cole with me. You get some rest."

"No, it's okay," Zoë said quickly. She pushed him away and scooted around on the bed, making a space for herself next to Cole. "He can stay. I know something about what he's been through – being a kid, holding a gun between your family and your foe. I've been there, since I was younger than him."

She pressed her lips together so tight they disappeared, then she lay down beside him – not snuggled, just there.

"It's been kinda lonely up 'til now."

A dam burst in Mal's heart, pouring out grief, guilt, and love, but he had no words to offer. They looked so small, the two of them, and yet stronger because they weren't alone. Zoë's eyelids were getting heavy and Mal turned to duck out.

"Baba," she called and he paused. Zoë hesitated like she didn't know how to ask the question, and she wouldn't look at him when she did. "Is Uncle Simon coming back?"

"Yes. God, yes! Zoë!" He couldn't believe she even feared it. He thought it was just Jamie thinking thoughts like that.

"We just left him there," Zoë said. "And Aunt River …"

Mal scratched his head and turned in a circle, not knowing how to tell her it was a stupid thing to be scared about. "Zo, I've left that man on a dozen worlds. Him and his sister both. They're like gao cao de Hansel and Gretel, the way they find their way back here."

He waited until she nodded again.

"Get some sleep," Mal said. "And watch out. He kicks."

Zoë looked at Cole sleepily, then closed her eyes. "I'm used to it."

-----


	14. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

(_three weeks later)_

It was crowded in the Infirmary, but not in a way that Simon minded. His patients were stable and non-critical, his machines were sparkly and new, and he had visitors. There was a little bit of Christmas morning, in the smell of new medical equipment, boxes of bandages and suture thread, and the lingering scent of the apple cider that Kaylee was brewing upstairs. Kaylee had been waiting with a recorder so she could capture the look on his face when he saw the new Infirmary. It amazed him how clean Serenity had gotten in the three weeks he'd been gone, and he was secretly glad he'd been too injured to be put to work.

River sat on the side bed, hugging her knees to her chest because the new meds made her a little queasy. It had been awhile since Simon had put her through a complete detox, and he was glad she'd done alright without him there. She was responding amazingly well to this treatment, and had been lucid and cheerful all morning. Simon didn't want to keep her on this cocktail for more than a few months because it would start to damage her liver, but the psychological effect was profound. He'd never seen such a good mix of her sweet, bratty, smart, naiveté all at once. It was possible his own new lease on his own life was coloring his vision a little.

Michael was sitting up on the center bed, playing a game with Zoë. Simon had taken the more immobilizing braces off that morning, which turned out to be a mistake because Michael kept forgetting his ribs weren't healed and twisting the wrong way. Zoë wasn't helping. Still, there were more smiles than tears from Michael, and as long as it stayed that way, Simon wasn't going to tie him to a bed.

Simon hobbled to the counter, using a cane because his right knee wasn't healed enough to bend, nearly tripping over Jamie. The boy was literally attached to Simon at the hip, and had been since Simon limped out of the hospital that morning. Jamie had stayed with him planet-side while the rest of the crew finished the job for Walker. He'd had to medicate the boy just to get him back onto the ship that morning, but now the downer was wearing off and Jamie seemed calm enough, aside from wanting to maintain constant physical contact. Simon couldn't get him to sit on the bed with River, nor could he convince Jamie to sit on the floor and stack the new splints in the lower cabinets. He never strayed farther than his arm could reach and Simon told River that she had some serious competition for the honor of most persistent shadow. River and Simon shared a laugh at that, and it was one of those moments he knew he could heal her just by being close.

Throwing a hand up to keep from bowling Jamie over, Simon found his balance, tottered to the counter, and leaned heavily on the countertop with Jamie wedged in front, arms hooked over Simon's elbows. Jamie was somber and laconic, half-heartedly helping as Simon opened a box, pulled out the various cold medicines, and arranged them on the shelves. It was like having a third arm – a traumatized and lethargic third arm.

More accurately, it was like having eight-year-old Jamie again. Jamie had always been a shy boy, but he'd started coming out of that shell the past year, mostly because of the way Emily took to him. His hostage experience had regressed him those two years of maturity, and their return to Serenity that morning just about undid all the progress Simon had made in their time planetside. Simon planned to scour the literature later for any advice on how long to let this behavior go on. They'd go upstairs soon, and hopefully then Jamie would relax.

Cole and Genny dashed by, nearly wiping out as they stopped by the door to the Infirmary, all squeals and giggles.

"Jamie, Zoë come on! Auntie Sky is making the special bread!" Cole said breathlessly. Genny reached out her hand and Jamie took a step toward her, one hand still on Simon's elbow.

"Go on," Simon encouraged. "I'll meet you up there."

Jamie bit his lip and stepped back, wrapping his arms around Simon's waist. Disappointed, but not surprised, Simon hugged him gently and dismissed the other kids with a nod. Genny lingered a moment longer, but Cole wasn't waiting. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up the stairs.

"I want to go! I want to!" Michael cried, bouncing and then wincing. Despite the broken legs, he was still trying to swing himself off the bed, but Zoë held him back.

"Careful," Zoë warned, and he pressed his head against her shoulder in frustration.

Jayne trotted in next, wearing a slightly crunched birthday hat with sparkly streamers coming out the top. He wore a tight t-shirt, a loose apron, and a slightly drunken smile.

"I've been sent for the mini," he said, winking at Michael and Michael squealed in delight.

"And you, Mr. Sweet tooth," Jayne said to Jamie, pulling Jamie into a chokehold as he strutted into the room. "Your mom found those strawberries and you know how she is about sharing."

Jamie's eyes lit up and he looked toward the door again, keeping hold of Jayne as if that could protect him from the ghosts in the hall. Effortlessly, Jayne swung him over one shoulder, but gauging the less-than-receptive response, put him down almost as quickly.

"Will you fly me, too?!" Michael asked excitedly.

"No!" Simon said firmly.

They made it up the stairs slowly, but with many amusing antics. It was Jayne's birthday, but Simon felt the party was for him, because they'd postponed the celebration for his return. River's hands were on his shoulders like she was leading him toward a surprise. Her hands were trembling with effort to stay upright, but she was determined to have fun and radiating mirth. The whole galley smelled of cinnamon, apple cider, and French toast. Kaylee and Genny were running and squealing, Genny trying to protect the last pint of fresh strawberries while Kaylee tickled her sides. Sky was cooking, Mal was setting the table, and Inara was swatting Cole away from the birthday cake on the table. All of them wore silly hats.

"Well there's the rest of the party," Mal cajoled as the group of them came into the galley. Simon smiled, realizing that half the ship had been with him in the Infirmary. Genny vaulted over a tipped chair dashing toward Simon, and he reached out sideways for balance, but didn't have anything but Jamie holding him up. Genny gripped his shirt, hiding behind him as Kaylee slowed her approach, her eyes suddenly off the strawberries and on him.

"Clever girl," Kaylee crooned, wrapping her arm around Simon's neck. "Distracting me with my other favorite thing in the 'verse."

She wove between the children, pressing in closer to Simon in that way that made him forget anyone was watching. Her body was warm against his, her leg wrapping around his hips, pulling him close. She pressed the flat of her palm against his chest, splaying her fingers as she stroked upward toward his chin. Her warm tongue painted over his lips, tasting of strawberries, and he was lost. So lost in the feel of her. Simon danced his fingers lightly through Kaylee's hair, then trailed down her spine–

"Hey, keep your shirt on. Both of you!" Mal hollered.

Simon froze, embarrassed, and tugged his ear while Kaylee giggled bashfully against his chest. This wasn't their party … yet. One look at Jayne told Simon he wasn't stepping on any toes, though.

-----

Jayne winked at the Doc encouragingly. Hell, if he'd been away from his wife for three weeks, he'd have been all over her like frosting on cake, not spent the morning unpacking supplies in the Infirmary. That little man had a strange mind, and Jayne had been tipsy for a week, waiting for him to get back so he could finally open that gorram present Sky was hiding from him.

"Papa," Emily said, tugging at Jayne's pant leg. "Where's the hats? Jamie needs a hat."

Jamie brooded in the corner, munching on the strawberries, keeping his distance since Kaylee had crowded him away from his father.

"Think Jamie needs a hug more," Jayne told the little girl, scooping her up, planting a sloppy kiss on her nose, and handing her the last stack of party hats from the table.

She nuzzled him sweetly, then leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Papa, drink safely."

Releasing her to her mission, Jayne watched hopefully as Emily held a hat out to Jamie. Little Jamie looked up at the ceiling like he was trying to get away, but finally, he picked up Emily and let her put the yu ben de hat on his head. It was a small step, but it was something.

"Food and presents!" Jayne crowed, calling everyone to the table. The families gathered and the conversations bounced left and right, getting rowdy like it always did when it was someone's birthday and nothing tragic was coinciding.

Jayne saw how everyone clung to the normalcy of the shared meal, trying to convince themselves that things were done going wrong, even though they were still wound pretty tight on the inside. Now Simon and Jamie were back on board, River was walking upright, and they could be whole again. Jayne saw it in the way Mal held Inara closer than he normally would with everyone together and watching. Jayne also saw River sitting alone.

She was the only one among the adults that didn't share a bunk at night, and it was because of situations like this. How do you break it to a man that sometimes your brain goes funny and you start killing without meaning to? She was so afraid of herself and so alone. It made Jayne want to fix her up with someone, but they didn't have that kind of friendship and she would just read pity in the gesture. So he reached into the bread basket, pulled out a roll, and chucked it at her. He wasn't afraid of her. He knew her and he knew she wouldn't kill him on purpose. That was all he wanted to say.

River made a face when the roll caught her square in the chest, but any disapproval was buried under an impish smile. River was a mischievous punk in the kind of way that made Jayne laugh from the belly so long as he wasn't the target of her pranks. She picked up the roll off the floor and threw it back at Jayne, smacking hard into his cheek. Jayne didn't care if he was setting a bad example for the little ones. It was his birthday and he'd keep up whatever he wanted 'til Mall hollered at them and told them to stop.

-----

Inara stepped onto the catwalk, not surprised to find Mal sitting alone, staring down into the cargo bay. He drank directly from a bottle of engine wine; he probably needed to if his stomach was churning with the same fearful memory knotting hers. But this was their spot, and they'd either reclaim it or sell the ship, and she didn't see the latter one happening any time soon. Inara sat on the floor next to her husband, crossing her legs, since their child-proofing modifications prevented them from dangling their feet over the side anymore. Mal offered her a cup of wine that he'd been neglecting in favor of the bottle, and she nearly gagged when she swallowed it.

"You'd think for all the years we've lived here, we'd have wine less … fresh."

Mal laughed distantly, caught in some happy memory. "We could make a side business out of it. Kaylee's Engine Winery."

"We could retire," Inara added. The silence nestled between them and turned cold. Mal hung his head a little, twiddling the bottle in his hand.

"Are you asking me to?"

It was a fear that grew more apparent in him with every passing job – the fear that he couldn't keep up this life. Inara bumped his shoulder genially, and he winced from old injuries.

"I plan to grow old on this ship," Inara told him.

Mal tipped his head back and chuckled, taking another swig of wine from the bottle. "Don't see that happening."

She looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled in his special Mal way.

"You haven't aged a day since I met you," he said warmly. "Me on the other hand … I think I'm aging for the both of us."

"I didn't see you stopping that food fight," Inara teased.

"Don't see me cleaning up either," he answered roguishly. He drank from the bottle again, returning to that internal struggle that kept drawing his eyes to the floor of the cargo bay where their boys had nearly died. Inara knew what he wanted for them; she knew he worried that they wouldn't get what they needed here. But she grew up in that privileged life, with all its amenities, safely tucked into a warm bed every night, and she knew there was nothing safe about being in a place like that. It was the people surrounding her that kept her safe – her family on Serenity. There was little point in trying to explain it to Mal with words, so she pulled the bottle away from his lips and kissed him gently.

Mal usually didn't like being so intimate in a public place, especially now that the kids were old enough to know what they were walking in on, but he'd had just enough wine, and Inara could be very persuasive with her tongue. It was nearly a minute before he pulled back, but he wasn't pulling away. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers like he wanted for all the worlds to sink into that kiss again, but was fighting the instinct.

Mal screwed his lips thoughtfully and nodded back toward the galley where the others were still cleaning up. "Did we agree to watch the munchkin tonight?"

"I think so," Inara said, kissing Mal again. She'd forgotten they'd agreed to look after Emily so Sky and Jayne could have the night alone after his birthday party. They didn't have much time, then.

"Can we get Zoë to babysit?" Mal asked between kisses. It was too hard to kiss his lips while he was thinking, so Inara cradled his face and nibbled along his jaw.

"She's tending Michael," Inara said.

"Genny?"

"Nursing Cole back to health."

"Jamie –"

"Not ready to work yet."

Mal groaned in frustration, and Inara wished he'd just let it go and be satisfied with the moment rather than trying to claim the whole night.

"We're running out of kids!" Mal complained and Inara laughed.

"Simon and Kaylee are working on that," she whispered.

"I want to work on it," Mal pouted, sticking out his lower lip.

"So work," Inara teased, running her fingers inside his shirt. Finally getting it, he wrapped his arms around her, half tackling, half dancing, he dipped her in front of him, and kissed long and hard. There was no safer place Inara could think to be than there in his arms.

-----


End file.
